


Kiss the Sea and Drown

by BigBlueKitty



Category: Sora o Daite Oyasumi | Embrace The Sky And Sleep
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mild Smut, Mild Suicide Ideation, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 00:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8946508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBlueKitty/pseuds/BigBlueKitty
Summary: But you and me? We’re just the ones that got left behind. Clinging to each other like a life raft in the middle of a stormy sea, all they’re trying to do, really, is keep their heads above the water long enough to get to safety. But, if it’s in this feeling – if it’s together – would drowning be so bad?A proper ending to Sora o Daite Oyasumi





	1. On A Rooftop

**Author's Note:**

> Since this manga's been abandoned since 2012, I figured, screw it, I'll write my own ending. Loosely inspired by the song [Shoreline by Deas Vail](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l9mID7na1Xs)

"Even if I was being irresponsible or insensitive, I didn't want to accept that as the answer."

"So you... jumped?"

"Yeah."

Ichinose turns to face Shuji for the first time since he began the story. Leaning carelessly against the railing, hands in his pockets, he looks almost like a painting. Shuji feels the urge to take his picture more than he had the first time they'd met.

"Jumped right after him," Ichinose drawls, tired smile creeping its way across his lips. He kicks off the railing and walks toward his, for lack of a better word, companion. "Kind of surprised you came back up here after you ran away last time. That curious or...?"

The way he talks is so plain, almost matter-of-fact, as if he's telling this story like it happened to someone else. Shuji can't bring his legs to move or his mouth to form words. His throat closes up and, for a moment, he thinks he might cry. A gust of wind sways Ichinose's hair, making it shimmer against the setting sun. Shuji doesn't cry.

Ichinose's lazy smile falters. He looks away, the slightest blush dusting his cheeks. "Hey, say something, will ya?" he says. "Don't just stand there. It's pitiful, right? This whole thing just..." he trails off, as unsure about what to say as Shuji.

There's not much to say, Shuji realizes. Pity or anger or sorrow... no one wants those, do they? Shuji hadn't when his father died. He still doesn't on the rare occasions the topic gets brought up. But Ichinose wants him to say something, so...

Shuji swallows the tightness in his throat. There's not much he can say but maybe...

"My dad killed himself," he says. "They said it was heart failure but there were marks..." Shuji's fingers unconsciously trace the line around his neck. He remembers it vividly, even all this time later. "I can't understand," he says. "I thought I had to stop thinking about it but even now, I can't understand why my father would..."

Silence hangs in the air, settling over them like a thick fog. Shuji can't help but think he shouldn't have said anything, that he shouldn't have come here in the first place. Now, after running away once already, he can't make himself do it again.

Ichinose makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a snort. "That why you wanted to know?" he says. "You thought I'd understand or something?"

Shuji fidgets with the camera hanging around his neck. It feels heavier somehow. "Don't you?" he asks.

Pause.

Then "Yeah," Ichinose says slowly. "Guess so."

The bell rings, ending their already stilted conversation. Yet, for some surely unfathomable reason, Shuji doesn't take the opportunity to run away from this awkwardness surrounding them. Neither does Ichinose.

"Hey," Ichinose calls when neither one of them have moved. "Skip class with me?"

"I..." Shuji starts, voice raspy. He clears his throat. "We probably shouldn't."

"Probably." Ichinose shrugs. "Still gonna."

Shuji can think of a thousand reasons not to stay but he really doesn't want to go to class. Not right now. If Ichinose is offering him an alternative, who is he not to take it?

"Okay," he says.

* * *

It becomes something of a routine after that. Roku's used to spending his free time on the rooftop – praying, wasting time, ignoring his responsibilities, things he never figured Yashiro would be interested in. But there he is, nine times out of ten, on the rooftop just a few minutes after Roku's finished picking the lock.

Yashiro turns out to be exactly like Roku expected. Quiet, studious, easily flustered, the whole package. Normally, Roku would have gotten bored by now but teasing Yashiro is easily becoming his favorite pastime and more times than not, he's willing to share his lunchbox so Roku can't complain about the time they spend together.

They don't talk about it again. Yashiro doesn't seem to want to push the subject and frankly, Roku isn't too keen on bringing it up, either. So, it sits between them, hanging in the air like an awkward silence. It makes this whatever-you-want-to-call-it feel much more intimate than it has any right being while simultaneously keeping them at arms length from each other.

So they don't talk about it. They talk about other things instead. Sometimes it's sports; other times it's photography. Most times it's classes. Yashiro's pretty smart and Roku's grades are pretty bad after all. So it's natural that they'd study together, rare as those occasions might be. Yashiro offers to tutor him more than once. Roku declines. If he wanted to study, he'd do it. As it stands, there's not much point.

One time, Roku asks Yashiro if he has a crush on one of the girls in his photography club.

Yashiro, predictably, turns into a bright red, stuttering mess. "Of course not!" he denies, shaking his head so fast Roku's surprised he doesn't give himself whiplash. "Sh-sh-she's just a friend! And she's not my type anyway, not that she's a bad person but she wouldn't go for someone like me even if I did like her. Ah but I don't like her! But no wait, I like her! I mean, as a friend I like her, I just-"

Roku almost feels bad for enjoying this so much. Not bad enough to stop Yashiro, of course, but almost.

Yashiro, sadly, cuts himself off, probably because he realizes he needs to breathe air to continue his existence. He takes a moment to collect himself, adjusting his glasses the way he always seems to when he gets flustered. "And anyway," he says, much slower this time around. "I don't really want a girlfriend."

Roku sucks on a piece of bread stuck between his teeth. Somehow, he would have thought the opposite. Yashiro might be shy and awkward but he's still a guy and not entirely unattractive either. "Yashiro, do you maybe," Roku starts, trying to hide the teasing edge to his voice. "Swing for the other team?"

Yashiro turns white then green then red before finally settling on a nice shade of pink.

Bingo.

Roku takes pity on his classmate and claps him on the back a bit harder than necessary. "Hey, it's not like I can judge," he says casually.

Yashiro looks less colorful after that but only marginally. "Ah, Ichinose do you...?"

Roku's first thought is a very blunt 'well, I regularly get fucked by Kousei so there's that' but for some reason, he's a bit reluctant to share. Partly, he realizes, because Kousei regularly antagonizes Yashiro and Roku doesn't want this tentative whatever-it-is to fizzle away just yet.

But something else gnaws at the back of his mind. He likes girls, or at least he used to. He thinks he likes boys, too, not that that bothers him. Just, now that he's sitting here, thinking about it, he can't help but wonder when having sex with his boyfriend became some kind of self punishment.

 _'Hasn't it always been?'_ his mind whispers to him. _'Judge me, hate me, watch me suffer.'_ When he looks in the mirror, he can't help but hope Kei is looking back at him, enjoying this mess.

It's stupid, though. Kei could never forgive him, no matter how much he suffers. He can't forgive himself either.

Roku takes too long to answer but Yashiro's a decent guy so he doesn't say anything. "I guess so," he says. He's already ruined the mood, might as well be honest. "Doesn't really matter to me what someone's got going on, long as we can do it."

Roku expects Yashiro to get flustered again or at least grossed out, but he doesn't. Instead, Yashiro frowns in confusion.

Roku arches a brow. "What's with that look?"

Yashiro glances down at the lunchbox sitting in his lap. "Ah, nothing, I just... You just struck me as the romantic type, I guess. Ah, not that there's anything wrong with physical relationships! I just..."

Roku takes pity on Yashiro this time, only because he doesn't want to delve into that kind of territory yet, either. "Romantic?" he drawls nonchalantly. "You some kind of virgin?"

Yashiro chokes and turns red again. Roku can't stop himself from laughing when Yashiro word vomits something almost completely incomprehensible.

Teasing Yashiro is definitely becoming one of Roku's favorite pastimes.

* * *

They don’t make a point to spend time together away from the rooftop. They might talk in class, though rarely, or greet each other in passing but they’re not exactly friendly either.

It’s probably better this way. Just showing up to class on a regular basis is enough to get Ichinose more attention than he probably wants. Shuji doesn’t even want to think about how Ozu would react if he found out about their daily rooftop meetings.

That’s fine then. They have their time together, for whatever reason, and Shuji doesn’t ask for more than that. Really, it’s amazing Ichinose’s put up with him for this long after telling his story. That’s all Shuji wanted in the first place after all.

So it’s a surprise then, when Ichinose strides over before class on an otherwise normal Tuesday and asks Shuji to tutor him.

“You’ve offered before,” Ichinose says, sitting backwards in his chair, munching contentedly on a pocky stick. He likes sweets, Shuji’s noticed. “Normally I wouldn’t ask but I’m behind and I don’t really feel like repeating the year a third time so.”

Shuji blinks once, then twice. It’s far too early in the morning for his eyes to be playing tricks on him like this.

True he has offered in the past but Ichinose’s always turned him down. Shuji had always thought Ichinose would prefer someone else or maybe he just didn’t need a tutor. The school administration still gives him more leeway than the other students after what happened.

 _‘Not anymore apparently,’_ Shuji thinks to himself.

Ichinose makes an expression that could only be described as a pout. He pulls out a pocky stick and holds it to Shuji. “Pretty please,” he says with false sweetness.

Despite himself, Shuji can’t hold back a snort of amusement. “Okay, okay,” he says, taking the cookie stick. “When did you want to start?”

Ichinose takes out another cookie and sticks it in his mouth. He rolls it between his teeth for a moment before sucking on it. Shuji has to force himself to look away.

“Hmm, soon as you can as many times a week as you can,” Ichinose says, biting the stick.

Shuji nods, allowing his gaze to shift back to his conversational partner. “Okay,” he says. “We can start today after school, if you want. I have a few things to take care of for the photography club but after, we can meet in the library?”

“You got it, Sensei,” Ichinose replies, giving a small, crooked smile.

Thankfully, their real teacher walks in before Shuji has time to fully process Ichinose’s comment. He’s sure, though, that by the end of the lesson, his face has become a permanent shade of pink.

* * *

Yashiro says he’ll be a half hour, so Roku heads to the gymnasium first thing after school to waste time playing basketball.

He’s jittery today, full of nervous energy, and he doesn’t really know why. It makes him jumpy. He’s a little more aware of his surroundings than he needs to be. It’s annoying, on days like this.

Kousei is in the gym like he sometimes is after school. Roku spares half a second to wish he’d gone to the roof instead but quickly abandons the idea. Going to the roof when he’s like this probably wouldn’t be a good idea.

So whatever. He ignores Kousei on his way to the locker room same as he has for the past week or so. They haven’t talked about it. They probably never will. They’ve never been the communicative type of couple and Roku’s just fine with that.

It’s an unspoken agreement. They fight, they stay mad for a while, but they don’t talk about it. One day, Kousei shows up and Roku slams the door in his face or they fuck. They talk at school the next day, about movies or sports or whatever – not about their problems – and then things are normal.

Kousei hasn’t shown up to his door yet and Roku’s still pissed anyway. They haven’t talked about anything in over a week. Today’s not going to be different.

Roku peels off his uniform and changes into his gym shirt and shorts. Being with Yashiro isn’t that much different, he supposes. They don’t talk about their problems much either, not since the first time anyway.

Granted, they haven’t had a fight yet. They don’t really spend enough time together to get on each other’s nerves.

 _‘Maybe that’ll change,’_ Roku muses. He wouldn’t mind. Even if Yashiro wanted to talk about things, the things they usually avoid, Roku doesn’t think he’d mind listening.

Not that he’s going to bring it up. If Yashiro wants to avoid it, then who is Roku to force it out of him? It’s not like he’s eager to talk about his own feelings anyway.

Roku slams the locker with more force than necessary. Maybe that’ll change.

Shoes in place, Roku steps out to see several other boys have formed makeshift teams and the side in need of a member isn’t Kousei’s.

Roku takes a deep breath and gives his sort-of boyfriend a once over. He’s not happy.

_‘Should’ve gone to the roof.’_

* * *

Shuji is halfway to the library when Ichinose appears out of nowhere, grabs his arm, and drags him in the wrong direction before he can even process what’s happening.

“Change of plans,” Ichinose says. “We’re studying at your house.”

“M-my…?” Shuji sputters. “But… hey wait!”

Ichinose doesn’t wait. He keeps dragging Shuji down the hall, angry footsteps echoing on the linoleum. What on earth…?

“H-hang on,” Shuji says finally managing to wrest his arm out of Ichinose's grip.

Ichinose stops walking. He seems almost surprised. “Sorry,” he mutters.

Shuji frowns. “Did something happen?”

“Nope,” Ichinose says too quickly. “Nothing at all.”

Shuji bites his lip. He shouldn’t push, they’re not really friends. But the way Ichinose shifts his feet, looking so awkward, it makes Shuji want to comfort him. “Are you sure?”

Ichinose scratches the mole on his cheek with his index finger. It seems to be a habit. “Tell you later,” he says.

Shuji smiles just a little. It’s not much but it feels like a start.

Ichinose pouts embarrassed. He grabs Shuji's hand again and walks without waiting for a comment. “Come on,” he says. “I’ll buy you food.”

* * *

Roku hadn't meant to impose on Yashiro's family. He just wanted to stay away from his apartment for a bit and they were going to study anyway so...

It's stupid anyway. The whole reason he moved out in the first place was because there were too many memories in his childhood home. Remnants of Kei had long been packed up by the time Roku had gotten home from the hospital. Sheets washed, clothes donated, his bed had even been removed from their room. All that was left were the pictures on the mantle and the face staring back at him in the mirror. Roku couldn't bear that.

It was their mother's way of coping, he supposes. He can't say he holds it against her. He might have done the same thing had their positions been reversed.

Still, he hates it. Kei was nowhere to be found in their home save every time Roku had to see his own reflection. The face staring back never sneered or cried or laughed or frowned. It was always blank – empty.

Roku would have preferred hatred. Even a fraction of the pain Kei felt would be better than that emptiness.

Roku smashed the mirror and somehow, without so much as a lingering scent, Kei still haunts that house.

Now Kousei haunts his apartment.

Damn. Roku's going to run out of places to hide soon.

Yashiro's home is nice, though. It's warm and smells like tea and whatever Mrs. Yashiro is cooking (or would it be Ms.? Roku doesn't ask). His sister is loud and his room is more cluttered than Roku would have expected. Mrs. Yashiro says she'll bring them tea and invites Roku to stay for dinner almost as soon as he walks through the door.

Yashiro's father is everywhere. There are pictures of him and pretty landscape photos with his signature at the bottom. There's a shrine for him in a separate room. Yashiro goes there first to pray and burn incense. Roku stands awkwardly to the side, feeling like an intruder.

"This is probably better," Yashiro says long after they've eaten dinner and well into their study session. "I never really liked going to the library."

Roku leans back from the kotatsu, stretching until his shoulders crack in four places. "Really?" he says. "Guy like you? Would've thought you'd live there."

Yashiro cracks half a lopsided smile. "I'm full of surprises."

Something changes in that moment. Roku feels something in his chest, something like his heart beating. It's not like those flowery shojo manga. There are no sparkles or cherry blossom petals flying every which way and nothing suddenly, miraculously clicks into place. It's just a feeling, quick and painless and subtle enough not to notice right away.

Roku returns Shuji's smile with a lazy one of his own. "Suppose you are," he says a little less teasingly than he'd meant to.


	2. Last Train Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's like a single page in the manga where Shuji's talking to a girl in his photography club. She doesn't have a name and I didn't want to give her one oops.

It becomes another routine of theirs.

Roku never actually tells Shuji why he’d decided to suddenly change the location of their study session and Shuji never asks. It becomes another one of those things they don’t talk about. Yet, just like how they both end up on the rooftop every lunch period, they somehow end up in Shuji's living room every day after school, books sprawled on the kotatsu while their tea cools beside them.

It’s a routine that continues even a week later when Roku doesn’t really need the help anymore. Today is no exception.

Roku spares a glance at the clock, barely registering that it’s already half past ten. The practical part of his brain notes that the last train home has already left the station but the rest of him can only flop unceremoniously onto the tabletop with a grunt.

“This is the whole reason I skipped cram school,” he whines.

Shuji looks up from his books for the first time in, according to the clock, seven hours, blinking rapidly in an attempt to focus his blurred vision. He’d taken his glasses off sometime around hour three and has seemingly forgotten where he’d placed them. If Roku could be bothered, he’s sure he’d help Shuji search but he can’t so he doesn’t.

“Move your butt,” Shuji says, all but shoving Roku over in his pursuit. Roku’s legs are too stiff to function, leaving him to fall the rest of the way to the floor. It’s kind of nice, though. The kotatsu is warm and the carpet is pretty soft all things considered. He could fall asleep like this, really.

He doesn’t, of course. Shuji's triumphant yell stops him.

Roku's brain is too exhausted to scramble for a distraction that isn’t ‘stick yourself in the eye with your pen and make him take you to the hospital’ but that would be messy, and Roku doesn’t want to ruin the nice, soft, probably-great-for-sleeping carpet. But Shuji is already opening another book, meaning Roku has to find something or die trying.

Roku reaches out to the nearest bookshelf, grabs the first thing his fingers touch, and throws it on the tabletop with much more force than necessary. He sits up just in time to see Shuji jump with a sound Roku is never going to let him forget.

“Are you…” Shuji begins hesitantly. “Interested in photography…?”

Roku blinks. It’s only then that he sees the thing he grabbed is, in fact, a photo album.

Just as well, then. At least that’s something Shuji likes to talk about.

Roku opens the book to a random page somewhere in the middle, while Shuji looks over his shoulder. It’s mostly landscapes – the city skyline, mountains in the distance, cherry trees blooming in early spring, and most notable, a graveyard.

“You take these?” Roku asks.

“Ah, yeah,” Shuji says. “Most of these are from when I was kinda young, though, so they’re not very good.”

Rou disagrees. He doesn’t know much about photography, but flipping through the album, he can tell they were at least taken by someone who knows what they were doing. Most of them are black and white near the beginning, but about a third of the way through, they switch to mostly color. He wonders if his photo, the whole reason they’d started talking in the first place, had been black and white or color, and finds that he can’t really remember.

“Hey, where’s mine?” he asks. Now that he’s thought about it, he really doesn’t remember how it looked.

“Th-that’s…” Shuji stutters and oh? What’s that supposed to mean?

Roku smirks teasingly. “Oh?” he drawls. “Keeping it in a private collection, are you?”

“Th-that’s not…!” Shuji's cheeks flush as he flails his arms around apparently unable to form proper sentences.

Roku snorts and leaves him to it. Shuji really is too easy to tease sometimes.

Shuji settles as the landscape portraits give way to less than planned family pictures – Shuji’s mom praying on New Year’s, his sister playing with a cat, them dressed in yukatas during a festival. There’s a blurry one of Shuji and his sister clearly fighting over the camera that Roku can’t help but smile at.

“You guys seem close,” he muses.

“We are,” Shuji says, voice soft and full of affection. He still has a hint of pink in his cheeks and a small smile playing at his lips. Roku's not sure how any of this makes him feel.

“After my dad,” Shuji continues, blessedly allowing Roku to go back to pretending he doesn’t have a heart. “My mom had to take care of me and my sister by herself. She was always so strong, I guess I felt like I had to be strong, too. Chiho, too, now that I think about it.”

Shuji takes the album and flips a few pages forward. His dad isn’t in any of the pictures, but Shuji, increasingly, takes a place in front of the camera rather than behind it.

“It was hard,” he says. “There were a lot of things my mom didn’t want us to know and a lot of things I wanted to forget. But this made it easier.”

Roku covers his mouth with his hand to stop himself from scowling. It’s not Shuji's fault that his own mom and step dad got a divorce just a few months after Kei’s death, nor is it his fault that Roku's real dad couldn’t be bothered to show up again after Roku was released from the hospital.

“Must be nice,” Roku drawls despite himself. “I haven’t talked to my mom in four months.”

Roku takes the photo album and slams it shut before Shuji can ask. It’s not really his mom’s fault, either, is it. One son dead, the other losing his shit over mirrors, how could anyone put up with that?

He can’t blame his mom or his dad or his step dad or Kei. He's too exhausted to not blame himself and too tired to want to dwell. He needs a cigarette.

“I’m spending the night,” he announces to a bewildered Shuji. “Last train’s already left.”

“Oh,” Shuji mumbles. “In that case, we should-“

“Shuji,” Roku interrupts. It’s the first time he’s said Shuji's given name aloud, he realizes. “I will literally get on my knees and suck your dick right now if it would stop you from saying ‘we should go over the math assignment one more time.’”

Shuji blushes, flustered by the mention of dicks or being so easy to predict, Roku's not sure. “That’s not what I was going to say,” he says. “And you’re already on your knees.”

Rou arches a brow. “First of all, yes it was. Second, great, we’re halfway there. Now close the book and take off your pants.”

Shuji closes the textbook gently. “I’m not taking off my pants,” he says.

“Fair enough,” Roku shrugs. “Can I still spend the night?”

“Only if you keep your pants on, too.”

Roku can’t really tell if Shuji is kidding or not. He smirks regardless. “No promises.”

* * *

"I think about it sometimes."

Roku takes a long drag from his cigarette. The night air is too cool to leave the window open like this but Shuji doesn't complain. He doesn't complain about much, Roku realizes.

Still, the blanket wrapped around his small, shaking frame is too pitiful. Roku stamps out the cigarette on the windowsill and lets the smell dissipate for a little while longer.

He’s being a bit selfish tonight. All the thoughts he’s tried to shut out, the hatred, the guilt, it wells up on a night like this, when his guard is down and he’s too wired to sleep but too tired to stop.

There aren't any stars in the sky tonight. Gray clouds blacken the already dark night. With no moon, the only lights are distant streetlamps and the occasional flash of lightning over the mountains. It's going to rain, but not tonight. Maybe in the morning, he's not really sure.

He'd like that. Staring at the sky isn't doing anything for him anymore. Hasn't for a long time.

Shuji doesn't say anything. He stares outside, eyes full of something like longing, waiting for Roku to continue on his own.

He does that a lot, just wait for Roku to talk on his own. He never pushes, never judges. Roku wants him to, sometimes – to judge him and hate him and throw him away. He deserves it, after all.

Shuji doesn't do that, though. Despite everything, at least for tonight, Roku feels grateful for that.

"I wonder sometimes," Roku continues. "How long did Kei have to suffer and I didn't notice a god damn thing?"

Roku can feel Shuji's eyes on him but he keeps his own firmly on the mountains in the distance. Lightning flashes; thunder rumbles. He wants it to rain so badly.

"I could have stopped him," Roku whispers, as if the slightest disturbance would shatter this moment. "I keep thinking, if I just paid attention, if I noticed sooner, if I..." No, no, no. He doesn't let his mind go there, he can't go there. If he lets it go there, he won't make it back.

Something touches his foot. Roku jolts, ready to run, before the rational part of his brain can tell him it's just Shuji.

Shuji frowns, concern plastered all over his face. He's really too easy to read sometimes.

Roku settles quickly into his relaxed demeanor, hoping the darkness is enough to hide the blush coloring his cheeks. He's been jumpy lately and he hates it but not as much as how it makes other people look at him. He doesn't want pity; he'd rather they scorn and mock him than pity him.

Shuji's never pitied him, though. He's too sincere for something like that.

"We're pretty different, you know," Roku says. "Even our situations. You said you wanted to know why your dad would kill himself but I already know why Kei jumped. I know already."

Shuji looks like he wants to say something for a moment. He bites his lip and curls his legs further into his chest, like he's trying to make himself smaller. He does that sometimes, when he's not sure of himself.

Roku forces back a sigh. Shuji's been patient with him; he should at least do the same.

"Just because you know the reason," he starts tentatively. "That doesn't mean you understand it. It wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it?" Roku says coolly.

"No," Shuji says with conviction Roku wasn't sure he'd had. "It wasn't."

Roku doesn’t believe him. The hatred, the pity, the part of his brain that wishes he’d died alongside his brother tell him it’s a lie.

Shuji is too sincere for something like that. Even clouded by self loathing, Roku knows that much.

He's not sure why he even brought it up in the first place. They hadn't been talking about it. They hardly ever talk about it. Just, on a night like this, dark and cold and gloomy with the scent of rain heavy in the air, it felt right. Sitting across from each other, window open, feet not quite touching... something like this sets a mood, doesn't it?

Roku closes the window and taps Shuji's foot with his toe. He’s too tired for this right now. If things keep going the way they are, Roku might drown in these thoughts and he’s not about to let Shuji see that. Not tonight.

“We should go to bed,” he says and Shuji doesn’t need to be told twice.

* * *

“Seventy five.”

Shuji glances over Roku's shoulder to see the number in large red print underlined at the top of their latest test.

“That’s not bad,” Shuji says. Sure, it’s not a perfect score but it’s better than most of Roku's recent exams.

Roku shrugs, not happy per se but not unhappy either. “It’s a passing grade, can’t complain,” he says. “And what did you get, Sensei?”

Shuji blushes, partly at the sensei comment, partly at his own test score. Maybe he shouldn’t…

Roku grabs the paper out of his hand before he can protest. “Come on, it can’t be that ba- ninety seven!”

Shuji's blush darkens. “Ah, well...”

Roku pouts and throws an arm around Shuji's shoulders. “Well, you’ll just have to double your efforts then, won’t you, _Sensei_.”

Shuji snatches the paper back but he doesn’t try to get out of Roku's hold. He never thought Roku would turn out to be the touchy type but he doesn’t mind it. “Effort will have to wait. I have photography club after school.”

“K, then I’ll go with you.” Roku shrugs.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Nah, I’m gonna. ‘sides, wouldn’t be a complete week without a stern lecture from The Missus.”

“She has a name, you know. And she’s not my missus. You know I’m-”

“I’m sure she does.” Roku promptly drops his arm and drops the subject. Shuji frowns but doesn’t say anything. It’s always like this whenever sexuality comes up. At first, Shuji just figured he didn’t like labels but the more time passes, the more it seems…

Shuji doesn’t think Roku has a problem with him being gay. He’d be a bit of a hypocrite if he did considering… well, that’s another subject they don’t talk about.

There’s a lot that they don’t talk about – a lot Shuji wants to know but doesn’t want to ask. Sometimes Roku tells him things, late at night when he’s tired and his guard is down. Sometimes Shuji tells Roku things in those moments, too. But moments like that are fleeting and few and far between.

Shuji wonders, not for the first time, if Roku talks to Ozu about those things. He’s not sure how he should feel about that.

Speak of the devil, Ozu chooses that particular moment to come waltzing into the classroom. If looks could kill, Shuji would be dead a thousand times over (though, given what he’s said before, the only thing likely stopping Ozu from actually murdering Shuji right here and now is a classroom full of witnesses).

Roku barely spares Ozu a glance. They’re still fighting, clearly, though about what Shuji still doesn’t know. It’s another one of those things.

Instead, Roku drapes his arm, slowly and deliberately, back around Shuji's shoulders, pulling him just a little bit too close. “Let’s go to the usual place,” he says with a wink. He’s talking, of course, about the rooftop but they’re definitely never called it ‘the usual place’ before. “I’ll buy you food.”

Shuji has no doubt his face would absolutely be on fire right now if not for the pair of daggers glowering at his back. Is Roku trying to get him killed?

“You’re walking me home today,” Shuji whispers. Ozu probably won’t murder him with Roku there, at least.

“Oh, so forward,” Roku all but purrs. Sometimes Shuji really could just smack him.

* * *

Shuji doesn’t know why he can’t just ask. He deserves to know after Roku practically dragged him into it or at least, Roku deserves to sit there and let Shuji chew his ear off for it but he doesn’t. For whatever reason, Shuji still doesn’t want to ask why Roku and Ozu are clearly fighting.

 Shuji's never been very tactful. He doesn’t have much experience with delicate social situations like these especially not when they involve his friends. He’s not good with conflict and excels at avoidance.

So he avoids – avoids confrontation, avoids anything that might make this tentative sort-of friendship with Roku collapse completely, and most definitely avoids Ozu.

But really, as good as he is at avoiding his emotions, he’s never been great at hiding them.

“Spit it out already, would you?” Roku groans, startling Shuji enough to make him drop his chopsticks. He’d almost forgotten Roku was there.

Said boy takes out a cigarette and sticks it between his teeth.

“You shouldn’t smoke,” Shuji mumbles, picking up his chopsticks. Is he really that easy to read?

“Still gonna,” Roku drawls. He lights the cigarette and takes a drag. “And don’t avoid the subject. Are you gonna spit it out or not? The curiosity is killing me.”

Shuji can’t really tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. There are a lot of things he still doesn’t know when it comes to Roku.

Shuji sighs. Well, he’ll never know if he doesn’t ask. “What are you and Ozu fighting about?”

Roku shrugs and takes another drag from his cigarette. Smoke curls around him briefly as he exhales before it’s carried away by the wind. It feels almost ethereal. “Something stupid,” Roku says. “What can I say? Guy knows how to push my buttons.”

Shuji's not sure what he’d been expecting. “That’s not really an answer,” he says.

Roku stamps out his cigarette on the concrete. “Yeah, well.”

Shuji bites his lip as Roku takes out a second cigarette. He knows he shouldn’t push but… “Was it about…?”

“Yup,” Roku lights his second cigarette with more fury than Shuji would have thought possible. “Actually had the balls to tell me to just get over it,” he mumbles. “Tch. Asshole.”

They sit in silence for a moment. Shuji waits for Roku to continue but he doesn’t. The moment passes; the bell rings. Neither moves.

Roku lights his third cigarette. That can’t possibly be healthy.

Shuji’d been surprised to find out Roku was a smoker. Though, looking back on it, he’d not sure _why_ it’d surprised him. Even before they met, Roku seemed like the typical cool guy – a slacker, a bad boy, what have you.

Shuji’d been wrong, of course. So much so that finding Roku with a cigarette clenched between his teeth had been enough to shock him.

He wonders where he picked up the habit in the first place.

“Did Kei smoke?” Shuji asks before he can stop himself. Maybe he never wanted to stop himself.

Roku flicks the cigarette ash next to the black scuff mark where he’d stamped out the past two. “Yeah,” he says. “When he was upset, he would.” A soft, sad smile finds its way across Roku's lips. “Used to get mad at him for it. Guess I see the appeal now.”

Roku goes to take another drag and for some reason, Shuji hates it. Something like anger wells in his chest and he grabs the cigarette out of Roku's hand. Roku has half a second to look completely bewildered as Shuji takes a long, drown out drag.

It’s probably not the smartest thing in the world. Shuji immediately starts to cough and sputter, nearly dropping the cigarette in the process.

Roku only laughs, clapping him on the back with too much force. It helps a bit. “Don’t force yourself, idiot,” he says. He takes the cigarette and takes a final drag. “Indirect kiss.” He winks, stamping out the cigarette.

Shuji groans but his coughs have largely subsided. That’s not why he’s taken the thing to begin with. He’d just… felt like it. Or something.

“You know,” Roku drawls. He keeps his hand on Shuji's back, rubbing small, comforting circles. It’s warm. “You’re really nothing like Kei.”

Shuji blinks. “What?”

“I used to think you were similar, I guess,” Roku clarifies. “Both quiet, kinda distant, the type who got picked on when you were kids. Guess that’s why I talked to you in the first place.”

Shuji's not sure what surprises him more, the fact that Roku has him pegged so easily or learning that Kei used to get bullied.

“I was wrong, though,” Roku continues. “You and him, you aren’t really alike at all.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Shuji asks.

Roku leans just a little further into Shuji's space. Shuji can’t say he minds. “Nah,” Roku says. “You shouldn’t smoke. It’s bad for you.”

Shuji barely stops himself from rolling his eyes but at least the air feels less oppressive. He bumps Roku's shoulder with his own. “Cheeky.”

By now, Roku's arm has found its way almost completely around Shuji's waist and he doesn’t seem eager to let go. “It’s a nice day,” Roku says as if that has anything to do with anything. “Skip class with me?”

This time Shuji does roll his eyes but he also doesn’t move to get up. “This is why your grades suck,” he says.

“Eh, don’t worry, I know a guy.”

* * *

Photography club is, in a word, boring.

It’s not that Roku doesn’t appreciate photography as an art form. He’s never had an interest in it, sure, but Shuji likes it and gets excited when they talk about it. And Roku likes the pictures he takes (enough to want copies of a few of them, though he wouldn’t ask something so embarrassing).

But the club itself is beyond boring. Shuji spends all his time in a creepy red-lit room that smells like chemicals while Roku tries not to touch anything. Today, they’re accompanied by Shuji's friend, dubbed The Missus in Roku's head since he couldn’t be bothered to learn her name, not that it matters since she clearly hates him anyway.

The glaring jumped from disconcerting to scary around minute thirty. Roku looks over his shoulder every so often just to make sure she’s not silently plotting his murder. It wouldn’t be hard in a room as poorly lit as this one.

The Missus clicks her tongue – the first sound she’s made since Roku's appearance. “If you’re gonna be in here, you might as well be useful,” she says.

She turns around and does something with a microscope-looking whatever, Roku doesn’t know.

“It imprints the image from the negative onto the photo paper,” Shuji says, clearly reading Roku's mind. This whole place really just gives him the creeps.

“And now it needs to be developed,” The Missus chimes. “Here take this.”

She hands Roku a pair of tongs with the photo paper clamped between them. What the fuck is she doing?

Blessedly, Roku's phone vibrates in his pocket and he never has to find out.

“Sorry, gotta take this,” he says without even knowing who’s calling. Doesn’t matter. He drops the tongs and bolts out of the room, through two doors and a curtain, and into the wonderfully lit classroom, The Missus’ shouts of “don’t just drop it asshole!” fading quickly behind him.

In fact, he’s so happy just to be somewhere with a full light spectrum that he fails to check his phone before answering. “Hey, what’s up?” he says.

“Roku,” Kousei's voice comes over the line. Well, shit. “I need to talk to you.”

Roku bites his lip. Damn it, he should have just stayed in the dark room with Shuji and his creepy friend. “Don’t think ya do,” he says as nonchalantly as he can manage.

“Don’t hang up on me!” Kousei voice sounds desperate and frightening all at once. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

“Gee, you just realized?” Roku says. What’s that phrase about poking the bear? “I mean, I knew you were slow but I didn’t think you were this stupid.”

“Fuck you,” Kousei bites back.

Roku clicks his tongue. He should just hang up but he’s kinda pissed and Kousei is easy to rile up. “Rather not, I’m not as desperate as you.”

Kousei growls over the line. “Listen you-!”

“Nah,” Roku interrupts. “Think I’m gonna hang up actually. Kinda busy right now.”

“Don’t!”

Something in his voice gives Roku pause. Kousei always was good at pushing his buttons.

“Is it Yashiro?”

Roku frowns. “What about him?”

Kousei laughs without humor. “Thought so,” he says. “That show you put on in the classroom was cute and all, but when are you gonna give it up? Leading him on’s kinda harsh even for you.”

“Shut up,” Roku spits. What the fuck does this asshole know anyway?

“Scary,” Kousei drawls. Roku never knew how irritating that sounded. “Look, I didn’t call to yell at you.”

“Congratulations, you failed.”

Roku can almost hear Kousei roll his eyes. “Look, I don’t know why you’re playing around with someone like him of all people-“

“I don’t see why it’s any of your business.”

“-But you should stop while you can.”

Kousei sounds so calm and collected; it only pisses Roku off even more. Who the hell is he to say any of this? “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kousei sighs heavily. “Roku, you know what you’re like. You can’t say Yashiro knows you better than I do.”

Roku barely holds back a petulant ‘At least he understands me’ because he doesn’t, does he? He and Shuji talk about as much as he and Kousei – less even.

 _‘But that’s changing,’_ the desperate part of Roku's brain tells him.

Is it?

Roku scrubs his hand over his face. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait, just,” Kousei says. “Think about what I said, okay? You can’t ignore me forever.”

 _‘The hell I can’t,’_ Roku thinks before cutting the line. It’s childish but he’s mad anyway so whatever.

He practically storms through the first door and tries to storm through the curtain when he realizes the door is too heavy to slam properly. Then he just feels stupid. Who storms through a curtain?

Roku sighs. It’s pitch black in the space between the rooms. The smell of developer drifts through the second door, carrying soft voices along with it. He can’t make out what Shuji's saying, but listening is still nice. Gives him a chance to calm down, at least.

“I dunno,” The Missus’ voice comes through barely loud enough to understand. “I just didn’t think he was your type.”

Oh? Talking about him, are they?

"He's not," Shuji says. "I told you, we're not like that. We're barely even friends."

Oh.

 _‘Well, he’s not wrong,’_ Roku muses to himself. He tries to ignore the sudden ache in his chest. Probably heartburn.

They’re not really friends. How could they be? Shuji's sincere and too nice for his own good. It’s a wonder how he’s put up with Roku these past couple of weeks.

Well, whatever. He's imposed enough then, hasn’t he?

Roku turns and walks back through the door, into the classroom, and right out of school.

* * *

Roku flicks his cigarette, letting the ash fall onto the floor. Whatever. He’ll sweep it up later probably.

His phone vibrates, the short reply ‘be right there’ appearing over the screen before it blacks out again.

Shuji'd texted him all of five minutes after he’d left school. ‘Where are you?’ it’d said.

‘Something came up,’ Roku’d replied, unable to muster up the energy to come up with something more elaborate.

Shuji’d asked if he still wanted to meet tomorrow. Roku hadn’t responded.

Shuji's too nice for his own good sometimes.

Roku puts out the cigarette just as a knock sounds at the door.

Kousei leans against the frame, the picture of confidence. It ticks Roku off. “Got your text,” he says. “Sure changed your tone from this afternoon.”

Roku rolls his eyes. He needs another cigarette. “And yet, here you are,” he says. “Now are you here to chat or are you gonna fuck me?"


	3. A Sudden Burst of Sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from [Stray Italian Greyhound by Vienna Tang](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QLySk3i4dFI)

A sudden knock at the door interrupts Roku's impromptu nap.

A quick glance at the clock tells him it’s almost five. He’s sure the last rays of sunlight would be just peeking over the horizon and into the room if he didn’t have his blinds drawn. They’ve been like that for three days anyway, at least he thinks.

Isn’t that just pathetic? Roku would probably laugh at himself if he could muster up the energy. As it stands, he hasn’t left his bed except to eat and go to the bathroom in those three days either.

Now someone’s knocking on his door, quietly enough but incessant in a way he can’t just block out and go back to sleep. If it’s fucking Kousei…

He checks his phone. No messages from Kousei but a handful from Shuji he hasn’t bothered to reply to. They’re all from two days ago anyway so what does it matter?

The knocking continues. Roku groans. He doesn’t want to get up.

“Roku?” a soft, hesitant voice calls from the other side of the door.

Speak of the devil. He’d know that voice anywhere and he hates how it makes his heart beat just a little faster.

_‘What’s that they say about absence?’_

Roku contemplates just staying there until Shuji gets the hint and leaves but his body betrays him. Slowly, he climbs to his feet and goes to answer the door. He doesn’t bother cleaning up or putting pants on. It’s _his_ apartment. Shuji can deal.

Shuji's standing there on the other side, face flushed and still in his school uniform. “Ah, hey!” he says with too much enthusiasm.

“Hey,” Roku repeats slowly. “What are you doing here?”

He shouldn’t be doing this. His heart clenches with barely concealed anxiety and he knows he should slam the door and go back to bed but he doesn’t. To think amidst the unanswered texts and awful sex, he actually started to miss this asshole.

“Ah, I was just…” Shuji trails off. “Ah, um, I brought you um these.”

Shuji reaches into his bag and pulls out a handful of worksheets and missed homework assignments. “There’s a copy of my notes in there, too,” he says, blush darkening.

Roku takes the papers, arching a brow. “Why?”

“Ah, well, someone had to,” Shuji says. “I told our teacher it was on my way so…”

“It’s not, though.” Roku should know. He’s been from Shuji's house to here more than a few times.

“I know. I just wanted to see how you were doing since you weren’t answering my texts so I just um…”

Roku tries to put on a teasing smirk but all he can manage is a half formed smile. “Were you worried about me or something?”

“Well, yeah,” Shuji says without hesitation. “You’ve been absent for three days and I know you live by yourself so I thought, I don’t know. You don’t have anyone to take care of you so…”

Shuji looks so small compared to Kousei, standing there with his face all flushed and his eyes pointed firmly at the floor. Roku's suddenly self conscious of the fact that he hasn’t showered in three days.

“Ah, I also brought you this.” This time Shuji pulls out a box of strawberry pocky and Roku feels his anxiety all but vanish. It’s so stupid and this is so stupid and his heart won’t stop swelling with joy.

“Do you want to come in?” he finds himself asking before his brain can tell him to shut up.

“Er, I can’t actually,” Shuji says.

Roku pouts and he knows he’s pouting because Shuji's lips quirk at the corner. _‘Stop being stupid,’_ he tells himself.

“If it’s okay, though,” Shuji continues. “Can I ah… can I call you later?”

He should say no – stamp down this feeling before it can hurt him – but he doesn’t.

It’s weird, to feel cared for. He shut out his mother a long time ago and Kousei isn’t exactly the nurturing type. He’s used to taking care of himself by now. He’s shit at it, as evidenced by his current state, but he’s used to it. So, something like this is kind of unfair.

“Yeah,” he says a beat too late. “Thanks, for bringing me this.”

Shuji's smile is enough to outshine the sunlight Roku hasn’t let into his room. Despite everything, he can’t stop himself from wanting to see more of it.

* * *

Roku doesn’t throw open the curtains and clean his whole apartment the second Shuji leaves but he does take a shower and eat a proper meal so that’s something, at least. The dishes sit piled in the sink, clothes scattered across the floor, but he’s clean and full and he feels infinitely better.

Roku throws himself back first onto the bed, towel still wrapped around his shoulders. He checks his phone for the third time in twenty minutes, but Shuji hasn’t called him yet.

He rolls onto his stomach, phone in hand, and stares at Shuji's number for probably longer than socially acceptable. This is stupid. _‘Stop being stupid,’_ he berates himself.

Roku sighs. When the hell did he become such a school girl?

“You act like you’re his girlfriend,” he mumbles, rolling onto his back again.

He sets down his phone and reaches for the still unopened box of pocky. Strawberry isn’t actually his favorite. Matcha flavor is, but the convenience store doesn’t usually sell those so he guesses these are what he usually has on him. Shuji noticed that then.

Roku runs a finger along the edge of the box but he doesn’t want to open it yet. _‘They’re better shared.’_

Immediately after the thought crosses his mind, he grabs a pillow and shoves it against his face. “Stop being so stupid,” he tells himself firmly.

When he glances at his phone a half a second later, Roku knows there’s no hope for him.

“Fuck it.”

Roku sits upright so fast it makes his head spin. One meal doesn’t cure three days of neglect, he supposes. Not important.

He grabs his phone and brings up the number he’s been staring at since Shuji left less than two hours ago. _‘That’s plenty of time, right?’_

Before he can think better of it, Roku taps on the number. It rings once, twice – _‘Come on, pick up’_ – then, “The number you are attempting to reach is currently unavailable,” the prerecorded voice says. “Please leave a message after the tone.”

Roku hangs up. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

In a fit of petulant rage, Roku jumps off the bed and attempts to find something relatively clean to wear on his floor. “What kind of asshole turns his phone off after saying he’ll call you?” he all but shouts to the walls. “What the hell kinda time is later anyway? If you’re gonna call, tell me when!”

Roku pockets his phone and the pocky box, throws on his shoes and jacket, and stomps out of his apartment before he can talk himself out of it.

* * *

It’s dark by the time he makes it to Shuji's home – dark and colder than he thought it would be.

It’s also immediately apparent that no one is home.

Roku leans against the entrance and takes a moment to catch his breath. Not only had he been dumb enough to come here in the middle of the night in November, but he’d sprinted all the way here from the train station. He’d laugh at himself if his lungs weren’t already burning.

He contemplates calling Shuji, hoping maybe he’ll pick up this time. What’s he supposed to say, though? ‘Hey, I’m outside your house because I got mad when you didn’t pick up your phone even though you said you’d call me and not the other way around.’

Not likely.

Roku sighs. What do they call this? Irrationality? Lack of self control?

“Stupid,” he mumbles under his breath. It’s stupid.

He checks his phone. No missed calls or texts. It’s almost eight. If he hurries, he can probably catch the last train, at least.

“Roku?”

The sudden familiar voice startles him out of his reverie.

Shuji stares at him from less than five meters away. His mom and sister trail behind, seemingly unaware of Roku's presence.

Roku straightens, face flushing in embarrassment. Of course he’d get caught like this. “Hey,” he says.

Shuji runs the rest of the way to him, warm breath visible in the cold. When had it started snowing anyway? “What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Uh,” Roku starts oh so eloquently. “You didn’t answer your phone so…”

Shuji blinks. “You called me?”

Roku really hopes it’s dark enough outside to hide his blush. “Well, you didn’t call me so.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Shuji says. “We were at temple a little later than I thought we’d be.”

“Temple?”

“Er, yeah.” Shuji takes off his glasses and cleans them on his scarf. “It’s my dad’s birthday.”

Oh.

“Shuji?” Mrs. Yashiro interrupts their conversation at exactly the right moment. “You should have told me if you were inviting a friend over, I would’ve left a key under the mat.”

“It’s rude to leave your boyfriend outside in the cold!” Chiho shouts as she dashes inside.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Shuji calls after her.

“Honestly.” Mrs. Yashiro shakes her head. “You shouldn’t leave your friend outside in this weather; he’ll catch his death out here.”

“Mom,” Shuji groans.

“It’s my fault,” Roku jumps in. “This was kind of an unplanned visit. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, dear, no need to apologize,” Mrs. Yashiro says. “We were just about to have tea. Care to join us?”

“Ah, I should really-“

“I insist. You’ll catch a cold if you stay out here.”

With that, Mrs. Yashiro heads inside, leaving Roku and Shuji alone.

Even though Roku knows it’s only been a few hours, it feels like it’s been a long time since they were alone together.

“She’s pretty motherly, huh?” he says.

“Overbearing is more like it,” Shuji mumbles.

Roku smiles, just a little. He missed this. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m intruding, even on a day like today.”

Shuji shrugs. “You didn’t know,” he says. “To be honest, I’m kind of glad you’re here.”

Roku licks his lips. The snow keeps falling around them. “It’s hard, right? No matter how much time passes.”

Shuji nods. “Come on.” He grabs Roku's hand and tugs him toward the house. It feels nice against his numb fingers. “Mom’ll throw a fit if we stay out here any longer.”

Roku wants to say something – make a joke, say thank you, tell Shuji he’s glad he came by – but he can’t think of anything. So, he lets himself be pulled inside and out of the cold.

* * *

Roku feels a sense of déjà vu sitting in Shuji's bedroom window, staring at the grayed out sky. Snow keeps falling. They switch from tea to hot chocolate at some point. Roku takes out the pocky box and they devour it within minutes. Not that Roku minds.

It’s different from that time. The air is lighter without rain clouds looming in the distance. Shuji doesn’t look as cold without the window open. He doesn’t fidget as much anymore at all actually.

“Are you okay to stay here?” Shuji asks long after the sweets are gone.

“What do you mean?” Roku says.

“Ah, you’re sick, aren’t you?”

Right. Roku supposes he _has_ missed three days of school without an explanation. “Nah,” he drawls. “I was never sick.”

“Huh?”

Roku shrugs. “Didn’t feel like going to school so I didn’t go. Not that complicated.”

Shuji frowns. “That’s not…”

“Yeah well.” Roku shrugs again. What does Shuji care anyway? “You don’t have to worry so much. You’re not my mom, you know.”

“Someone has to,” Shuji mutters, resting his chin on his knees. “It’s not like you talk to your own mom.”

Anger flares in Roku's chest, Shuji's words from three days ago replaying in his mind. “We’re barely even friends.”

_‘What the hell are we, then?’_

Roku scoffs. “Yeah well don’t. We’re barely even friends.”

Shuji looks less taken aback and more like he got punched in the gut. Just as well, really, Roku kind of feels like he’s just kicked a puppy. “What do you mean?”

“Hey, you’re the one who said it.” Roku keeps his gaze firmly affixed to the clouds outside. He can’t stay angry if he doesn’t. “I overheard you and The Missus talking during your club meeting.”

“You…?” Shuji shakes his head. “I thought you said something came up.”

“I lied.” Damn it, where’s a cigarette when you need one?

Shuji doesn’t say anything and frankly, Roku's not sure what he wants to hear anyway. They’re friends, by any definition of the word especially after the crazy shit they’ve both done today just to see each other. They’re fucking friends so why…?

Roku swallows the tightness in his throat. He’s not going to do something as embarrassing as cry now. “Why’d you say it?” he asks as calmly as he can.

“I…” Shuji bites his lip. He curls further into himself and Roku has the urge to reach over and rip his arms away from around his legs. “I didn’t think we were.”

Roku forces back an exasperated groan. “Shuji,” he starts slowly. “You came all the way to my apartment which is at least twenty minutes out of your way to check on my and give me sweets.”

“I know, but-“

“And I came all the way here, in this weather, in the middle of the night, and waited outside for you because I hadn’t seen you in three days and I missed you.”

Shuji blinks. Roku tries to force himself not to blush. He fails. “You missed me?” Shuji just about whispers.

“Yes, you idiot.” It feels almost too good to say it out loud but that doesn’t stop Roku's face from catching fire. “I missed you because we’re friends.”

“But I mean.” Shuji unfolds himself enough to lean his body toward Roku. “I mean, we don’t talk about stuff.”

Roku arches a brow. “What the fuck do you think we’re doing right now?”

“I mean important stuff – stuff that matters.” Shuji leans in a bit more, doing that thing where he gets excited or anxious or maybe both and he starts talking too fast. “Sometimes I wanna talk about my dad. I feel shitty and I wanna talk about it but I’m afraid because I feel like it’s one of those things we Don’t Talk About. And I know you feel shitty sometimes, too, and I want to ask but I never do because I’m worried I’ll scare you away and you won’t want to talk to me at all anymore and I don’t want that.”

Ah.

So that’s it.

Roku sets a hand on Shuji's shoulder, effectively stopping another word vomit. “Slow down, will ya?”

Shuji takes a deep breath and sits back on his heels. “Sorry. I’m not used to this.”

Roku scratches the mole on his cheek. “Yeah well that makes two of us,” he says. “Look, I’m not exactly an expert with these things either. Talking about your dad or my brother or whatever, it’s hard, isn’t it? I didn’t want to force it.”

“I… yeah,” Shuji says slowly. “I guess I’m the same.”

Roku lets out a long suffering sigh. “We’re kind of dumb.”

Shuji nods. “Too bad there isn’t a textbook for this kind of thing.”

Roku can’t help but snort. “I’m sure if anyone could find one, it’d be you.”

Shuji smiles at that. It’s not the one that outshines the sun but it’s still nice.

“Just,” Roku says. “Be patient with me.”

Shuji tries and fails to hide a grin beneath his palm. “Says the guy who couldn’t even wait for a phone call.”

Roku grabs the nearest pillow and throws it at him. “Worked out okay, I think.”

* * *

Shuji wakes early the next morning (or is it still nighttime? The snowfall makes it too hard to tell) to a soft voice from somewhere far away. It sounds far away, at least, in his half asleep state.

“I… yeah, things are okay.”

Roku's in the bathroom, talking to someone over the phone.

Shuji can only hear one side of the conversation and even then, just barely. He probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping in the first place.

“No, he’s from class.”

Who’s he talking to? Ah, it doesn’t matter. Go back to sleep.

“I… I’m trying. I’ll try. … I know.”

Shuji doesn’t actually know who else Roku hangs out with other than Ozu. Maybe they made up? The thought twists his stomach. Well, of course they would. They’re… boyfriends or something. Aren’t they?

“I’m not… yeah. No, I mean, not as much… sometimes.”

Shuji turns over in his bed and throws the duvet over his head. Go. To. Sleep.

“Yeah, no it was good talking to you. Sorry I woke you.”

Snow’s still falling, Shuji can see through the window.

“Yeah. I um… you, too. Bye, Mom.”

Oh.

Shuji smiles just a little and tries not to move when he hears the bathroom door open and close.

“Heard that, did you?”

Busted.

Shuji rolls over to face Roku. “Sorry,” he says even though he’s not entirely sure why.

Roku shrugs and crawls back onto the futon. “Least you don’t need to mom me so much anymore.”

Shuji's smile widens. “No promises.”


	4. Before the Storm

It warms up after that. Not much but enough to turn snow into sleet and sleet into rain. Enough to wash away any lingering hopes that school might be cancelled any time soon.

Exams are this week for most classes, leaving the school awash with jittery students and annoyed staffers. Shuji's usually knee deep in textbooks and class notes at any given moment. His mom says he might want to consider cram school but then Roku starts coming over again and she drops the subject.

Roku, for all his usual indifference, doesn't seem to be fairing much better. He's full of nervous energy, constantly tapping his foot or spinning his pen or looking for any sort of distraction. As someone with the tendency to avoid his problems, too, Shuji can't judge him too harshly.

Today's different. Shuji's not entirely sure why, but something feels off about today.

The sky's been cloudy since this morning. It hasn't rained yet but Shuji can feel it coming. The air's more electric, the scent lingering, looming over their heads like an oppressive silence. It's calm – quiet.

Roku's not as agitated as he has been. Or, if he is, he's gotten better at hiding it. He's quiet, too, for the most part. 'Calm before the storm', isn't that what they say?

Shuji flips through his history textbook and does his best to concentrate on something other than the mental state of his friend. He could always just...

"Are you okay?" he asks. They're friends after all, so this is fine, right? Friends – dorky as it sounds, the thought still makes him giddy.

Roku blinks, slowly, as if he’s just come out of a trance. “Yeah,” he says. “ ’m fine.”

He sounds tired; acts like it, too. Shuji reaches over and feels his forehead, but he’s not warmer than normal.

Roku swats his hand. “Hey, I thought I told you not to mom me anymore.”

“And I said I wouldn’t make any promises.” Shuji frowns, letting his hand fall. “You look tired.”

Roku's eye visibly starts to twitch. “Gee, thanks,” he spits sarcastically but there’s no bite to it. It’s like he can’t be bothered.

Shuji wants to push – feels like maybe he should – but he doesn’t. They’re friends, they talk, they hang out on a regular basis, but it’s still too new. Shuji's still wading into the water, not quite sure if he should jump into the deep end.

Roku makes the decision for him fittingly enough.

Roku slams his textbook closed with enough force to shake the table and stands abruptly. “Let’s get out of here,” he says.

Without waiting for a response, he grabs Shuji's arm and all but drags him out the door.

* * *

Roku walks too fast and his strides are too long. Shuji trails behind for most of their impromptu walk, chilled and panting and wondering what exactly Roku thinks he’s doing.

“Where are we going?” he asks at least fifteen minutes into this… this whatever this is. He can’t know the exact time for sure, of course. He doesn’t have his phone. Neither does Roku.

Said boy shrugs. “Nowhere,” he says casually. “Just wanted to walk.”

“You’re not even going to say anything?”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Shuji grits his teeth. Roku's a bit of a jerk, sometimes he can be selfish, even cruel, but Shuji never thought he could be this _stubborn_.

“Don’t be so careless!” Shuji shouts after him.

Roku turns from a good ways ahead, bemused frown tugging at his lips. Had he not realized he’d been leaving Shuji behind?

Neither gets the chance to say anything. A rain drop hits Shuji's glasses, then another, then it’s pouring.

“Damn it!” Roku shouts.

“Don’t just stand there!” Shuji sprints to catch up with Roku and grabs his hand. “This way.”

* * *

They’re both absolutely soaked by the time they duck inside the temple.

Shuji's been to this temple a lot over the last few years. It’s about a thirty minute walk from his house but it’s kind of nice like that – out of the way. At least, it’s usually not too busy.

There’s no one else here today. It’s too dark and too quiet. It makes the whole thing seem eerie.

Thunder crashes outside. Shuji shivers. Of all the things…

Roku doesn’t say anything, of course. Shuji has half a mind to turn around and smack him. Why did he bring them all the way out here in the first place?

Just as the rage starts to overflow, Roku breaks the silence by… laughing?

Shuji turns abruptly and stares but Roku just keeps laughing. There’s no humor or joy in the sound, just… something. Something like pain or sorrow. Something that shouldn’t _be_ there.

“Oh man,” Roku gasps. He’s doubled over from laughing so hard and it’s just so wrong, Shuji has no idea what to say or do and he can’t do anything but stand there and watch his friend fall apart. “What a way to spend a birthday, huh?”

What?

“And after being in a coma for my last one, too!” Roku continues. Shuji's not sure if he’s talking to him or to himself or to someone else entirely.

“Roku?” Shuji starts hesitantly. “Roku, what’s-?”

“Haven’t I had enough?” Roku whispers so faintly Shuji's sure he wasn’t supposed to hear it. He’s not laughing anymore. He’s just shaking. “Haven’t I had enough!” he shouts to the sky.

“Roku.” Tentatively, Shuji puts a hand on his arm.

Roku startles, fists clenched at his sides. “This is so stupid, isn’t it?” he says. He’s looking at Shuji now but Shuji doesn’t think he’s seeing anything. “This whole thing… Why should I have to feel this way?”

“Roku, calm down,” Shuji says softly.

Roku's breathing is irregular like he’s having trouble with it. “I don’t want to calm down!” he shouts. “Why should I? He’s the one who jumped! Why should we feel guilty when they’re the ones who left us?”

Shuji bites his lip and tries to squash the anger seeping into his blood. “Stop it.”

“Why should I! They’re the ones who were selfish in the first place!”

“It wasn’t selfish.”

“Wasn’t it?” Roku takes a step back; Shuji lets his arm drop. "We didn't get a choice, did we? We're just the sorry fucks who have to live with it, looking for answers that don't exist. They made the decision but you and me? We're just the ones that got left behind. That's selfish, isn't it?"

Shuji grits his teeth. Anger and sorrow and grief well up in his chest, spilling over until he has to open his mouth and scream or choke. "My dad wasn't selfish!"

For a moment, Roku looks taken aback, shocked that mild mannered Yashiro Shuji could make such noise. Then his eyes harden. His face contorts into something ugly and angry. "Then why did he leave you, huh?" he spits.

"I don't know!" Shuji shouts in return. Tears stream down his cheeks, hot and all encompassing. His heart races, aching with the sudden flood of long forgotten rage. "I don't know why he killed himself! I don't know! I don't know what he was thinking! He never told anyone! He never..." A sob rips through Shuji's chest, cutting off the words.

Roku stands there, shell shocked while all Shuji can do is cry. He doesn't know why. If he knew why, he wouldn't be here. If he could stop thinking about it, if he could just move on and pretend it doesn't matter, pretend it was just heart failure like his mother wants him to.

But he can't. He can't stop thinking about it and he can't pretend and he can't move on and he doesn't know.

A hand lands on his shoulder, warm and firm and it feels so much like one he's been missing all these years. Roku stares at him with wide, concerned eyes.

"I..."

Roku doesn't have to say anything, though. Shuji grips the hand on his shoulder and leans against the body standing before him. It's an awkward half formed embrace where neither is quite sure what to do with their limbs but it doesn't matter. Roku is warm and his clothes smell like rain and he's there. That's all Shuji needs right now.

"I was angry," Roku says. He wraps his arms firmly around Shuji's shoulders and for the first time in a long time, Shuji feels like he can breathe. "I was so angry when I saw Kei on the roof. I just thought how can he even think about leaving me? And I..." Roku's hold tightens. Shuji wraps his own arms around Roku's waist and holds just as tightly.

"And I hated him," Roku mutters. "I hated him for letting things get so bad and I hated myself for never noticing. And I still hate him because I want him here but I can't..."

Shuji buries his face in the crook of Roku's neck, hands gripping the back of his shirt so tight it hurts. "I hate my dad sometimes," he says. "I never knew what he was going through but he never wanted anyone to know. He never let us help him and I hate him for that sometimes. But it wasn't selfish."

Roku snorts without humor. "Kei was selfish," he says. "Ever since we were kids, he wanted me all to himself. I couldn't ever leave him alone." He pauses for a moment and takes a deep, shuddering breath. "You couldn't help your dad. You were just a kid, how could you? And I..."

"You couldn't have done anything," Shuji finishes. "You couldn't give Kei everything he wanted, could you?"

"No. I couldn't." Roku shakes his head. "I'm sorry, for dragging you out here."

There are a thousand things Shuji wants to say, but he doesn't. Roku's body relaxes and he knows there's no need – for either of them. The guilt ebbs if only just a little. It's okay. It's going to be okay.

They pull apart a few moments later, hands lingering, eyes red and swollen. Shuji's glasses are all fogged and dirty but he can still see Roku's face clearly when he takes them off. A blush finds its way to his cheeks. When did Roku get so close?

"Thanks," Shuji says, glancing at the spectacles in his hands. "I haven't cried like that in a long time. It's kind of embarrassing but it felt good, don't you think?" He attempts a natural smile but Roku is still too close. His hair tickles Shuji's forehead.

Shuji doesn't have much experience when it comes to these types of things, but he knows enough to see where this is going. And it scares him a little how much he wants to; scares him even more to realize he can't.

Roku leans in just a little but it's enough to snap Shuji from his daze. He leans away. Roku's grip immediately loosens, cheeks flushing as if he's just realized where he is. Shuji keeps his hold tight. He's not ready for... whatever had been about to happen but he needs to lean on Roku, just for a bit. He needs this closeness for a little while longer.

"I..." he starts. “The rain... doesn't look like it's going to let up for a bit."

Roku nods, clearly flustered and looking to Shuji of all people for guidance. Shuji doesn't know what to do anymore than Roku.

"We can stay here until it stops," Roku says.

So they sit, close enough that their shoulders touch, and watch the rain fall. If their fingers lace together, then so be it.

* * *

Roku spends Christmas with his mom for the first time since Kei died.

She calls and asks if he wants to stop by and says it's fine if he's already made plans. She wants to see him and he kind of wants to see her, too, but he's not sure he can right now. He says he'll think about it.

Kousei texts him ten minutes later, asking the same thing.

'Can't,' Roku sends back. 'Made plans.'

'Is it Yashiro?' is the almost instant reply.

The urge to tell Kousei to mind his own fucking business is almost too strong to ignore. Roku stamps it down. They've "made up" after all, even if things aren't exactly back to normal.

Still, he's petty enough to wait a full hour before replying 'Don't jump to conclusions, they're with my mom.'

Roku turns off his phone after that, hell bent on ignoring anything Kousei has to say for the time being. Maybe forever.

He sighs. Nice as the thought is in the moment, it’ll only cause problems. It’s not like he hates Kousei. They get along well enough and, despite all his faults, Kousei's at least always been there.

Roku shakes his head. Probably a bad idea to get himself riled up when he’s apparently spending the day with his mom.

He contemplates calling Shuji at first. Mrs. Yashiro is… formidable. But motherly all the same, especially toward Shuji and Chiho (and to him, now that he thinks about it). He’s still not used to it, to being cared for, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t nice all the same.

Mrs. Yashiro makes him tea and always asks if he’s staying for dinner and when he’s not, she gives him a plate to take home anyway. Chiho teases him sometimes and asks when he’s going to make an honest man out of Shuji (he choked on his tea the first time he heard that). And Shuji…

Shuji's kind of motherly himself. He makes Roku go to class and helps him not fail. He shares his lunch so Roku shares his sweets. He teaches Roku about photography, little things here and there. He even lets him take a few pictures on his father’s camera.

It’s more than that, though. All the little things add up to big things and the big things make Roku feel like…

It’s just not what he’s used to.

Roku's thumb hovers over the call button. He doesn’t think he needs advice anymore but he presses it anyway.

Shuji picks up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Roku says, wide smile spreading across his face. “What’s up?”

“Sick,” Shuji moans. “It’s all your fault.”

Roku snickers, letting himself fall back onto his bed. “Sorry. Did you want me to come over and take care of you?” he purrs.

Shuji groans louder. Roku can only laugh.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shuji says. “Hope your Christmas is better than mine’s turning out to be.”

“Maybe,” Roku says. “My mom called. She asked if I wanted to come over.”

“Will you?”

Roku pauses. He wants to but…

“Yeah,” he says after a beat. “I think I will.”

* * *

Spending time with his mom is very similar to what it had been like spending time with Shuji before they were “friends”. Conversation is kind of stilted and awkward, there’s a whole host of things they Don’t Talk About, and they don’t have enough in common to really fill in the gaps. At least he and Shuji had classes. He and his mom don’t have anything.

She tries, though so Roku supposes he can at least do the same.

All the mirrors are gone from the house as far as he can tell. Roku's not sure whether she’s just hidden them or if she never replaced them after his incident.

Incident is the nice way of putting it. Rage fueled, nightmare inducing psychotic breakdown is really a more apt description.

Had he ever apologized for it? He doesn’t remember.

His mother tries. She doesn’t talk about the new guy she’s been seeing even though there’s a picture of him on the mantle. Roku can’t be upset about it anyway, really. She’s moving on. Life continues, doesn’t it?

Maybe it’s just him who’s having a hard time with that.

She asks about school. “You mentioned a new friend, didn’t you?” she asks. “What’s he like?”

Roku takes a long sip of his tea. It’s objectively better than Mrs. Yashiro's but he doesn’t quite like it as much regardless. “Shuji's cool,” he says. “He’s pretty smart, helps me study.”

His mother smiles at that. “I’m glad,” she says. “I’m glad you’re making friends. You look better, too.”

Roku's not sure how to take that. It’s a good thing, he supposes. He knows how he used to look, so… “Thanks,” he says.

They’re quiet for a few moments. Roku sips his tea and eats a piece of cake his mother set out prior. It’s matcha.

Kei never did like sweets much, did he.

“Roku,” his mother says after what feels like a long time. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about it but…” She pulls a business card from her coat pocket and hands it to him.

It’s the number for his old therapist.

“I’m sorry,” she says before he can properly react. “You don’t have to call but… please consider it? I just… I worry about you, you know.”

Roku stares at the card for longer than necessary. His old therapist had been a nice enough woman who knew what she’d been doing at the very least.

 _‘Shuji would probably tell you to call,’_ his mind informs him out of nowhere. Is that his litmus test now? Shuji would want you to, so you should.

Roku's stomach settles just a little bit. “I’ll think about it,” he says.

His mother’s smile is enough to shove the remaining hesitation from his mind. He at least owes it to her to try.

* * *

If Roku spent his birthday with Shuji and Christmas with his mom, Shuji figures he’d probably spend New Years with Ozu.

Which is why the text he gets from Roku on New Years Eve is especially baffling. ‘You busy?’ it reads.

‘Not really,’ he replies. He would be, normally, but Chiho’s spending the night with her friends this year and his mom’s out with some of her work buddies so he was just going to stay in. He doesn’t mind; it feels like it’s been a while since he’s had a quiet night to himself.

Then Roku texts him ‘Come outside’ and he realizes, maybe he hadn’t wanted a quiet night after all.

Shuji almost trips running to look out his window. Roku's standing outside, waving and smiling as if it’s not well below freezing. He’s shouting something; Shuji can’t quite hear it from all the way on the second floor.

Shuji throws his window open, a cold burst of wind smacking him in the face as he does so. “What are you doing?” he shouts down to Roku.

“Freezing my ass off!” Roku shouts back. “Get out here! I’m taking you on a date!”

_‘Date…?’_

* * *

 “You didn’t have to do this,” Shuji says, shrugging his coat off and laying it across the back of his chair.

Roku shrugs. “I wanted to,” he says. “Consider it an I’m sorry for getting you sick on Christmas.”

Shuji's never been on a traditional date before and he’s not really sure whether he should consider this his first one or not.

Roku's done the traditional date thing – he’s taken Shuji to a café and bought him a latte and a piece of cake.

The café itself is pretty crowded even for New Years, yet Roku had somehow managed to snag them a secluded window table far away from all the hustle and bustle. The lighting is a little dim and the barista made a little heart out of foam on both of their drinks so it definitely _feels_ like a date.

But they’re not romantically involved or even trying to be. They’ve had their moments – Shuji still feels his heartbeat speed up when he thinks of what almost happened at the temple – but Roku does already have a boyfriend. Or Ozu is something like that at the very least.

Even if Roku is frivolous and flirts with him or teases him, Shuji's not sure what he’d really want if it came down to it. He’s not even sure what he wants himself.

“Hey, let me try yours,” Roku interrupts Shuji's overthinking. Probably for the best then.

Shuji stabs a piece with his fork and offers it to him without much thought. Roku's shown more than once that he couldn’t care less about sharing food or drinks.

Roku leans over the table to take the bite with a satisfied hum. “What kind is it?” he asks.

“Tiramisu,” Shuji says.

“It’s sweet.” Roku takes a piece of his own cake – green tea from the looks of it – and holds it out to Shuji. “Try mine.”

Shuji does, confirming his suspicions. “It’s good,” he says.

Roku doesn’t even tease him about an indirect kiss, just smiles, cute and genuine and Shuji's never been on a date but this feels so much like one. And he’s not entirely sure how to feel about that.

“Something on your mind?” Roku asks.

Shuji silently curses himself for being so easy to read. “Ah, no, I guess…” He pauses. A thousand questions pop into his mind – ‘Is this really a date?’ ‘Is this something friends do?’ ‘Do you like me?’ ‘Do I like you?’ – none of which he really wants to say out loud.

Roku arches a brow. “Yeah, there is,” he says. “If you wanna ask me something, you can you know.”

Shuji hesitates. “I guess I’m just surprised,” he says slowly. “I kind of thought you’d spend today with Ozu or something.”

“With Kousei?” Roku frowns. “Why would I do that?”

“Well, I mean…” Shuji fidgets with his drink, stirring it with the provided coffee straw. The heart has long since disintegrated. “Aren’t you two, you know…”

“What, boyfriends?” Roku finishes for him. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed. So probably not the best conversation topic but he asked. Besides, aren’t they supposed to talk more about the important things? “I guess so. Sometimes we hang out, play basketball. Sometimes he comes to my apartment and fucks me. That a relationship?"

Shuji bites his lip. “It sounds like one.”

“Kinda sucks.” Roku leans forward, scraping the legs of his chair against the floor. “Take my advice then, don’t do it.”

“Kind of a pessimistic way of thinking,” Shuji says.

“Yeah, well.” Roku shrugs in a way that’s not as nonchalant as he probably wants it to be.

“I don’t know,” Shuji says. “If it were the right person, it might be nice.”

Roku snorts without much humor. “Ah to be young and naïve.”

Shuji pouts. “It’s not naïve.”

“Probably not.” Roku twirls his fork around his cake rather than eating it. “Not for you.”

Shuji's not entirely sure what that means, though he can guess. Roku's love life has been nothing short of complicated, he supposes. “What about you then?” he asks. “What if someone loved you?”

This is dangerous territory, he thinks. He’s not exactly trying to hide his feelings, mostly because he doesn’t completely understand what they are yet, but he’s not trying to shout them from the rooftops either. Roku might cover things up with his disinterested attitude, but he’s pretty sharp when he wants to be.

“Shuji,” he says slowly. “Are you coming onto me?”

Yeah, there it is.

Shuji sighs. “Forget it.”

They’re silent for a moment. Shuji's probably ruined the mood. He scolds himself. _‘Stupid.’_

“If someone loved me,” Roku starts after what feels like forever. “I’d tell them not to.”

“Why not?”

“They could do better.” Another shrug. “What about you, then. What if someone loved you?”

Shuji feels the heat rise to his cheeks. If someone loved him…

“I guess, it would depend on the person,” he says. “But it might be nice. If someone loved me and I loved them back, I think that would make me happy.”

“Happy huh?” Roku smiles almost sadly. “I guess love’s just not for me then.”

_‘Not for you, huh?’_

Shuji swallows thickly.

_‘If I loved you, what would you say? If you loved me back, could we be...?’_

“Well,” he says. “Maybe that’ll change.”

Another shrug but for some reason, Roku's smile widens just a little. “Maybe.”

* * *

"It's good luck," Roku says, waving around his omikuji. "What'd you get?"

Shuji sighs and hands over the paper strip. He should have expected this really.

Roku winces. "Not so good."

The temple, out of the way as it is, is crowded on a night like this. All around them, people pray or talk or get their fortunes told by little strips of paper. Lanterns light their path as they make their way through the crowd. Roku holds his hand so they won't get separated. Despite the chill accompanying the inevitable snowfall, Shuji feels warm.

"Well, don't sweat it." Roku shoves Shuji's omikuji in his pocket and hands him his own. "You can have mine."

Shuji feels his lips quirk and his face heat up. "I don't think it works like that," he says. He takes the paper anyway.

Roku shrugs. "Eh, I've been pretty lucky this year all things considered. Toward the end at least." He winks at Shuji and squeezes his hand. Shuji hadn't thought this would feel so much like a real date.

They walk in comfortable silence for a bit, until the throngs of people start to thin and the only sounds are their footsteps crunching through the snow. Roku still doesn't let go of his hand and Shuji doesn't want him to.

"Are you spending the night?" he asks when they turn down his street. The walk seemed much shorter than usual for some reason.

"So forward," Roku teases. "You sure your mom won't be home by now?"

Shuji bumps Roku's shoulder. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Roku snorts and bumps him back. "Sadly, I can't stay," he says. "I uh have an early appointment with my therapist actually."

Shuji blinks. Roku had been to a therapist after he woke up from his coma, Shuji knew that much, but he didn't think... "That's good, though, isn't it?"

Roku shrugs in the way he does when he's trying not to seem flustered. "I guess. Road to recovery or whatever," he says. "I want to try, at least. This... is a good start, right?"

Shuji nods a bit too enthusiastically. "Y-yeah, it is."

Shuji's house comes into view just a second later. The front light's still off so his mom probably isn't home yet.

Roku still hasn't let go of Shuji's hand. Instead, he tugs Shuji back a little so that they face each other. Shuji expects him to make some teasing remark or maybe even go in for a kiss (and that is _not_ a train of thought he's going to entertain) but he doesn't. He looks serious all of a sudden, sharp eyes full of something like worry or affection or maybe both. "What about you, though?" he says.

It takes Shuji's brain a second to catch up. "What about me?"

"I..." Roku hesitates, seeming to gather his thoughts. "I'm going to try dealing with all this... stuff. I don't want to just not think about it anymore. It probably won't ever be great but it can be better, don't you think?"

Shuji nods slowly. "Ah, y-yeah."

"So, then..." Roku takes a step closer to rest his free hand on Shuji's shoulder. "What about you?"

Shuji's not sure how to answer. He never really thought about it, in all honesty.

Roku cocks his head, little lop sided smile spreading across his lips. "You know, the only reason I agreed to see my therapist is because I thought you would probably want me to."

"Y-you..." Shuji trails off, stomach doing way too many things it shouldn't be doing. He's pretty sure if he tries to say anything, he'll say everything or vomit all over Roku's shoes and neither is a risk he's willing to take.

"I don't know,” Roku continues. “I guess I just thought, 'if Shuji would want me to, it's probably because it's good for me.' So, I guess what I'm saying is, what would you have yourself do?"

Shuji opens his mouth but nothing comes out. What would he have himself do? He's not sure. He wants to stop avoiding things – to stop forcing himself not to think about them. He wants things to get better, he's just... not sure how. It doesn't seem like the type of thing he'd need to talk to a therapist about and it's been so long and he just...

Roku abruptly cuts off all thought by leaning in and kissing Shuji's cheek. It's small and chaste and Shuji's wants so much more than that but it's enough. In this moment, it's more than enough.

"Don't give yourself an aneurysm," Roku says. "I'll text you tomorrow. Or later tonight when I start freaking out about everything."

"Y-yeah!" Shuji practically shouts. "I mean, um... I'll be awake. Probably."

"Don't force yourself," Roku says, that smile widening. "See you."

Roku turns to leave and Shuji watches him until he's well out of sight.

Shuji thinks he will stay up for a bit.

* * *

Shuji's in the kitchen when he hears the front door open and his mom walk in. There's tea, still warm on the stovetop. He hopes she hasn't had much to drink.

He taps his fingers against his mug, holding it a little too tight. He contemplates getting up, pretending he'd only been in here to make tea before going back to his room, and that he hadn't actually meant to wait up for her. Doing this, sitting here and waiting, isn't this kind of like an ambush?

Shuji sighs. He can't keep avoiding this forever.

Roku's words replay in his head. 'What would you have yourself do?'

 _'What_ would _I have myself do?'_

"Shuji?" his mom calls, stepping into the kitchen. "You're still awake?"

He nods slowly. He can't keep avoiding this and neither can she. "Y-yeah," he says. "I wanted to ask you something, actually."

His mom frowns. "What's wrong?"

Shuji bites his lip, keeping his eyes fixed on the tea in his cup. Roku's omikuji sits in his pocket almost like a silent comfort. "Mom," he starts. "How did Dad die?"

His mom is silent for a few moments. She doesn't move or speak or even seem to breathe. "Shuji," she says slowly. "Y-you already know... It was heart failure."

"I..." He could pretend. He could just agree, make something up, go to bed and act like none of this ever happened. It would be easier for both of them, wouldn't it?

_'What would Roku tell me to do?'_

Shuji has to think about it for a second. Roku's... a bit unpredictable. He can be impulsive; he doesn't care much for rules. He acts like things don't bother him even when they do and even though he seems easy going, when it's something important, he's the most stubborn person on the planet.

And he's trying. He wants things to get better. Shuji wants that, too. And it has to start here, doesn't it?

"Mom, I'm not a kid anymore," he says firmly. "I know that... I know that Dad killed himself. I just don't know why."

He half expects his mom to be angry. It's New Years after all, she's just come home – he’s probably ruined whatever good mood she'd been in.

But she doesn't get angry. She just sighs heavily and goes to pour herself a cup of tea. "I wish I knew," she says softly. "Your father always wanted to hide how he was feeling. Always had to be strong for us."

She takes the seat adjacent to Shuji's. She looks tired, older maybe. "I could see the kind of toll it was taking on him. I never thought that..." She shakes her head. "I guess I should've known I couldn't hide it forever. You and your sister, you're pretty smart kids. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Shuji says. "You wanted to protect us. But you don't need to be strong on your own for us either, you know?"

His mom laughs, a small chuckle without much humor. "I guess what they say is true. Kids do grow up fast."

Shuji smiles. He's pretty lucky, now that he thinks about it, to have a mother like this. "Can you tell me about him?" he asks. "What was he like back in high school?"

She nods, grinning fondly. "Well, your father and I actually met in college..."

They stay up until the sun rises, talking about his father. In the early hours of the morning, Shuji lights incense and leaves a small paper strip on his father’s shrine.


	5. Into the Deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dicks touch in this chapter, you've been warned.

The last bit of winter melts away just as the cherry blossoms begin to fall. The coming spring brings with it new life, new festivals, and a new school term.

Their student counsel president is a bit too enthusiastic for Roku's tastes. He practically begged Shuji to skip with him but he refused, so here they are, stuck listening to the list of incoming school events while Kousei glares at him from across the room. He hadn't _meant_ to ignore Kousei during winter break, it's just what happened.

_'Oops,'_ Roku thinks to himself but he doesn't care enough to apologize. _'Maybe you should just break up with him like a normal person,'_ his brain shouts at him but he can't be bothered. Sure he's kind of avoiding this issue but he's still seeing his therapist twice a week so whatever. Baby steps, he supposes.

"All right!" their president shouts. "And for our class trip, we're going to the beach!"

Roku perks up at that.

The beach huh?

* * *

"The beach" actually turns out to be an overnight trip to Onjuku, which means Roku has to share a room with fifteen other boys, Kousei being one of them, but Shuji being another so it balances out at least. Still, it's kind of claustrophobic staying here as opposed to his apartment where he lives alone. He hasn't properly shared a room with anyone since Kei.

It’s getting easier to think about him, if only marginally.

Still the odd twist in his gut feels unpleasant enough for him to take Shuji's hand and squeeze a bit too hard. Shuji squeezes back, though, so he figures it’s okay.

They’re a little away from the other students, all lined up in a row while their teacher goes over the beach’s layout and class rules. “You’re to stay within this immediate area,” he says pointing at the map tacked up on the bulletin board. It looks like it’s been there for more than a few decades. “The next beach over is private property. Stay out of trouble and most importantly, have fun!”

A resounding ‘yes, sir!’ echoes down the line. Roku immediately tugs Shuji away from the group. He doesn’t really know what he wants to do yet but the sun is out and Shuji's topless. There’s a whole host of possibilities out there.

Shuji giggles like a giddy school girl, following Roku's whims wherever they might lead. “Where are we going?” he asks.

Roku shrugs. “Dunno yet. You wanna swim?”

So distracted is he that he doesn’t notice a shadow closing in on them.

“Roku,” Kousei's voice calls from much too close.

Roku turns abruptly to see his soft-of-not-really boyfriend standing in front of him looking pissed. He takes a step in front of Shuji instinctively. “Did you need something?” he asks casually.

Kousei spares a glance at Shuji, his face contorting into something a bit more murderous. “We need to talk,” he spits.

Roku leans on one foot, further blocking Shuji from view. “Don’t really think we do,” he says just as casually as before.

Kousei probably wouldn’t start a fight here but he’s not really willing to risk getting Shuji caught up in the crossfire. He’s never really been on the receiving end himself (he figures rough sex doesn’t count) but he’s always been one to throw himself headlong into danger anyway so.

Kousei, surprisingly, only sighs. “How long are you going to keep this up?” he asks.

Roku arches a brow. “Not really sure what you mean.”

“This is cruel, isn’t it?” Kousei says. “You can’t just keep leading him around ‘cause you’re lonely.”

Roku's eyes narrow into dangerous slits. His grip on Shuji's hand tightens. “Leave him out of this.”

“Roku,” Shuji chimes in quietly. “We should just-“

“On a first name basis?” Kousei interrupts. “You think you’re cute, don’t you? You don’t know anything about this guy.”

“Shut up, Kousei,” Roku bites.

“Did he tell you about when he smashed all the mirrors in his house? How about the first time I fucked him?”

“Shut up, Kousei!”

“Practically begged for it, did he tell you that?”

Roku's clenches his free hand into a fist. He _has_ told Shuji these things, most of them, and he’s done it on his own terms, on those quiet nights when he drops his guard and he feels like he and Shuji are the only two people in the universe. Not like this – not spat back in his face like this. He knows he’s a fuck up and he knows how messed up things are but they’re getting better – they’re supposed to be getting better.

Shuji's thumb traces circles on the back of his hand. “I know,” he says, so surprisingly calm. “Does it matter?”

Kousei grits his teeth to hard Roku's half expects them to crack under the pressure. He doesn’t want to wait around to find out exactly what that expression means.

He does an about face and practically drags Shuji to the farthest corner of the beach. Kousei doesn’t follow.

They end up farther away than they’re really supposed to go. Shuji has to plant his feet in the sand just to get Roku to stop walking. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Roku finally lets go of his hand to scrub his hair and face. “Not really,” he says.

Shuji bites his lip. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t. Roku hates that most of all, when Shuji closes himself off and doesn’t say what he’s thinking. It feels like a step backwards when all Roku wants to do is move on.

“He’s an asshole anyway,” he says. “Let’s go swimming. I don’t wanna let him completely ruin today.”

Roku's already tugging Shuji into the ocean before he can respond. He’s not going to let his whiney, pissbaby of a not-boyfriend fuck up the best thing he’s had in a long time.

* * *

Roku turns out not to be as strong of a swimmer as Shuji would have thought. Not that he can see him very well anyway with his glasses covered in water.

“Why don’t you just take them off?” Roku asks, letting himself float in waist deep saltwater.

“Cause then I wouldn’t see anything,” Shuji says, attempting to dry his glasses with his wrist. That just makes it worse, of course.

“Why not get contacts?”

“They’re too irritating.”

Roku clicks his tongue. Half a second later, Shuji feels his glasses being lifted off his face. “H-hey!” he shouts.

Roku's already wading further into the water, glasses in hand. “You want them back?” he calls. “You’re gonna have to come and take them!”

Shuji doesn’t have much choice but to follow. He wades out further, unable to see much more than the skin colored blur in the distance. “Don’t go out so far!”

He hears Roku laugh; feels the current pick up.

“Roku!” he shouts. “I’m serious!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Roku yells back but he doesn’t sound very sorry.

Shuji's just barely able to keep his feet on the bottom and his head above water at the same time.

It’s sudden, too sudden. The current picks up with the wind; a wave hits them with too much force and knocks them off their feet. Shuji sees Roku go under just before his vision fills with nothing but water.

Shuji finds his way back to the top quickly but Roku… Where’s Roku? Roku isn’t as strong of a swimmer, he was farther out.

“Roku?” Shuji calls.

A second later, he hears sputtering, gasping.

“Roku!”

Shuji doesn’t think or wait, he just goes. He swims, faster than he’d ever thought he could. “Roku!” he shouts.

More gasping. Roku is there, just meters in front of him but Shuji can’t reach him and oh god, what if he dies? Another wave hits, knocking them away from each other.

Shuji coughs, chest burning as his lungs fill with sea water. Where’s Roku? Where’s Roku?

“Shuji!” Roku's voice calls from too far away. They swim, or try to, but the current’s too strong, the wind is too much and Shuji doesn’t know what to _do_.

“Roku!” Shuji reaches out. He feels their fingers touch. He grabs Roku's hand and holds on tight.

Another wave and they both go under.

* * *

He can't... see anything. Not at first.

He hears things. He's not... quite sure what. Something like rushing water? A voice? He can't tell what it's saying.

Something hurts. Somewhere. Everywhere? He can't feel his body. Something's scratching his skin. Where are his limbs? He can't tell.

It's so distressingly familiar, this feeling of weightlessness. It's like his body doesn't exist. He's felt like this before. When was it?

_'It's when you woke up.'_

Right.

He was asleep for a long time, wasn't he? But then he woke up.

"...ku..."

Ah, it's the voice. What's it saying?

"...Ro...ku..."

Is it calling him?

Has he been asleep for a long time?

"Roku..."

Maybe...

"Roku!"

Is he...?

"Roku! Please! Wake up!"

Ah.

For a brief moment, he thinks he sees a pair of familiar eyes. What color are they? They look so much like his own and then they don't anymore.

He reaches for them.

* * *

Roku comes to slowly. His lungs burn and his chest heaves and before he can even tell what's happening, he rolls onto his side and coughs up a lung full of water. Shit, that's right.

A pair of arms throws itself around his neck before he can even really sit up. Shuji. He...

Shuji tightens his grip and buries his face in Roku's hair. "You idiot," he mumbles over his very apparent sobbing. "I told you not to go so far. What were you thinking?"

Roku's eyes widen. That's right. He swam out too far and got carried away. He almost... But Shuji...

"You saved me," he whispers. His throat closes and it's not the same as drowning but it still hurts. When had he started crying anyway?

Roku hugs Shuji back just as tightly. He wants to kiss him and scold him all at the same time because that was way too dangerous but he's so, so happy he's alive all he can do is hold onto the body in front of him.

Shuji pulls back just enough to look at him. "What were you thinking?"

"I..." Roku bites his lip. He hadn't really been thinking at the time. He'd been angry, still, wanted to get away from it and have a little fun so... "I'm sorry," he says. "I wasn't thinking and I almost got us killed. I'm sorry."

Shuji relaxes back into his arms, hugging Roku for all he's worth. "It's okay," he says with a sigh. "You're okay. We're okay."

They stay like that for a long time, long after they've both stopped crying, but they don't let go. Shuji has his fingers in Roku's hair and Roku has his hands on Shuji's bare back and they're shivering and wet but it feels so warm.

Something wet hits Roku's face. At first he thinks Shuji's started crying again but when they pull back, Shuji's just as confused as he is.

Thunder cracks in the distance. When had the sky gotten so dark, anyway?

"It's going to rain," Shuji says. Roku might have teased him about stating the obvious if he weren't still trying to wrap his brain around everything that's happened in the past hour.

So, Roku nods, slowly. "We should find somewhere to wait," he says. "Where are we anyway?" He looks around properly for the first time but he can't see any of their classmates or teachers. How far had they been carried exactly?

"I don't know," Shuji says. "I think... we're on the second beach. The closed one. We'll need to walk through the forest to get back."

Another raindrop hits Roku's face and then another. "Later," he says. "First shelter."

* * *

A seemingly abandoned shed in the middle of the woods is a bit serial killer-y for Roku but it's already pouring outside. Desperate times, he supposes.

There's not much here except a lot of fishing equipment and a few extra blankets for which Roku is grateful. He and Shuji sit, huddled together on the floor, wrapped in all three blankets, listening to the rain fall. Despite everything, it feels strangely romantic.

Roku curls his knees to his chest and leans against Shuji, an odd pillar of strength through all of this. Even though he's without a map, shoes, or his glasses, Shuji remains surprisingly level headed. Roku's sure he'd have died by now if it weren't for that.

He sighs. Their proximity combined with the blankets warms them both enough to stop the shivering within a few minutes. Roku lets his hand find Shuji's, fingers lacing like they belong together. Roku may not be the romantic type but he knows enough to know how bad he's got it. Probably has for a while now.

He lifts his chin and rests it on Shuji's shoulder to look at him. Shuji's eyes are closed, head leaning back against the wall. His hair is still wet, dripping every once in a while onto his face and he looks so _pretty_ in the dim lighting, droplets glinting when lightning flashes. Roku can't stop himself from placing a small kiss to his shoulder. "You know," he says slowly. "You look different without your glasses."

Shuji cracks an eye open, smile tugging at his lips (which Roku can't stop staring at). "Well," he starts, teasing edge to his voice. "You don't look like anything at all without them."

A soft, airy laugh bubbles up from Roku's chest. "Oh yeah?" he says. He leans in closer, so close their noses touch. "How about now?"

Shuji's eyes dart to Roku's lips and when he licks his own, Roku almost can't take it. "You'd have to get closer."

So he does. And suddenly, they're kissing, soft at first – just the barest brush of lips but he wants so much more.

Roku wraps his arms around Shuji's shoulders, hands finding their way through his still damp hair. Shuji leans in closer and brings his palm to Roku's cheek and it's the first time Roku's been handled this gently. A shiver rolls down his spine as the distance between their bodies lessens and their kisses become more heated.

It's clumsy. Shuji doesn't know what he's doing and Roku's not used to taking the lead. Their teeth knock together and there's not enough tongue and it's a total mess but it feels so _good_ – better than Roku thought it ever could – and he wants it so badly.

Roku gasps, breaking contact as Shuji runs his fingertips along his side. He feels his muscles twitching and has to kiss Shuji's jaw to stop himself from giggling.

Shuji brings their lips together again, only briefly. "Are you ticklish?" he asks, trailing kisses along Roku's neck. His fingers trace the line of Roku's abdomen and that's an entirely different sensation.

"Shut up," Roku says without malice. He brings Shuji's body closer, so close their legs tangle and their hips touch.

Shuji moans against Roku's skin. He moves to kiss him again and again and again, far too many times to count. "I want to touch you," he breathes against Roku's ear.

Roku whimpers, cock twitching in his bathing suit. Oh _god_ , this boy will be the death of him.

Roku shifts his head and captures Shuji's lips once more. He drags his nails along Shuji's chest, raking them over his nipples, and he feels Shuji moan into the kiss.

Shuji shifts his hips and their dicks press together and it's so weird but so good at the same time. Roku's not used to this, these gentle touches, these slow drawn out kisses, this heat pooling in his abdomen. He's never wanted anything this much, never been this much in love.

Shuji grinds his hips against Roku's, making him moan. "You keep this up and I'll come in my pants," he says panting.

Shuji bites his swollen lip and it's almost too much. Roku kisses him again, hard and desperate and greedy.

A hand finds its way to the waistband of his bathing suit and tugs, freeing his throbbing cock. "A-ah..." Roku moans but the hand doesn't stop. Fingers wrap around his shaft and his hips buck and he wants more.

Shuji's dick strains against his suit even though he hasn't even been touched yet. Roku slips his thumbs into the waistband and pulls, palming Shuji's ass.

Shuji gasps, leaving Roku free to run his tongue down his neck. "I want to touch you, too," he says, biting Shuji's collarbone.

They grind their hips together, kissing and touching, dicks rubbing and even though it's just this, Roku can't hold on for much longer. Every sound goes right to his cock and by the feel of it, Shuji's is the same way.

Roku takes Shuji's hand and they jerk their dicks together, panting and moaning. "Sh-shit," he whimpers. "I'm gonna..."

"Y-yeah." Shuji takes Roku's lip between his teeth and tugs and their tongues mash together. They kiss and keep kissing, muffling their moans as they come.

Their breath mingles together as they pull away but just barely. They kiss again, chaste and sweet and giddy all at once.

Roku leans his head on Shuji's shoulder, sighing contentedly. His eyes fall shut. There's so much he wants to say but he doesn't have the energy nor does he feel the need.

It's Shuji who lays them down, wrapping them firmly in a nest of blankets. He curls against Roku, arm around his waist. Roku kisses his forehead and settles beside him.

Outside, the rain continues to fall.

* * *

By the time they make it back to their class, the rain's stopped and their teacher is _furious_. He chews them out for a solid fifteen minutes before their filthy, sorry looking state gets the better of his compassion.

They bathe, too tired to do anything other than scrub the dirt from their hair and are promptly sent back to the room. "Where you are to stay and rest for the remainder of this trip," their teacher had said. Neither one of them puts up a fight.

They lay down beside each other, having picked adjacent futons on arrival, but exhausted as he is, Roku finds himself unable to sleep.

Shuji's the same. He rolls over to face Roku and for a moment they just look at each other.

"Can't sleep?" Roku asks.

"Not really," Shuji says. "You either?"

Roku shakes his head, though it's a bit awkward in this position.

"I keep thinking about it," Shuji continues. "I was so scared when you went under. I just thought what if he dies? What will I do? And I couldn't..."

Tears well up in Shuji's eyes and Roku knows he's trying hard not to show it. Roku's been thinking about it, too. If he died...

Funny. He used to want to die but now...

"Hey, scoot over," he says.

Shuji does, a little confused. Roku closes the short distance between them, wrapping an arm around Shuji's waist as he settles under the blanket. "Is this better?" he asks, words muffled a little by Shuji's neck.

He feels Shuji nod, though, and run his fingers through his hair. He sighs. "I'm still here," he says. "You saved me, remember?"

Shuji buries his nose in Roku's hair, breath hot against his scalp. "I didn't do much of anything. I just... went in after you."

"And that was stupid," Roku says. He pulls back a little, just enough to kiss Shuji's lips. "And I'm glad that you did."

The words mean more than Shuji could ever know but he must understand at least a little of what Roku is saying because he really starts crying after that. Roku kisses him again and again. "It's okay," he says. His grip tightens, bringing them closer. "I'm here, you're here. It's okay."

Shuji quiets after a bit. They kiss, gently and without anything other than the need to affirm that the other is there. Somewhere along the line, Roku's eyes start to close, the sound of Shuji's heartbeat and feel of his skin lulling him to sleep.

They're still asleep when the door opens and Kousei walks into the room.


	6. For a While Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some mild violence in this chapter.

Shuji's out sick for two days after their class trip. When he gets back to school, a little later than usual on Wednesday, Roku's nowhere to be found.

‘Are you coming in today?’ he texts but the reply doesn’t come until just before lunch.

‘Sorry,’ it reads. ‘Just got here. Guidance counselor wanted to see me.’

Shuji frowns down at his phone. It’s been a while since Roku's come to school late. ‘If you’re still sick, you should stay home,’ he sends back.

‘But I wanted to see you <3’ is the reply.

Shuji sighs, heat rising to his face. This guy…

They haven't really talked about it, not because they're avoiding it, or at least Shuji doesn't think they are. This just seems like the kind of thing you talk about in person, right? And they haven't seen each other in two days so...

Shuji sighs. It'd be a bit hypocritical to scold Roku when Shuji wants to see him, too. 'Don't force yourself.'

'That's my line. Are you picking up my habits?'

Shuji shakes his head, blush undoubtedly darkening. He loves this guy, probably has for a while now, but he has no idea what to do with him sometimes.

‘I’ll wait for you on the roof,’ Shuji’s about to send when suddenly, he loses his footing and trips. He has a moment to curse his own clumsiness as his phone flies out of his hand and slides across the floor, stopping only after it hits a foot.

Ozu Kousei's foot to be exact.

Shuji scrambles to his feet. Oh, this is bad, this is very, very bad.

Ozu reaches down and picks up the offending object. ‘ _Please don’t read it, please don’t read it,’_ Shuji chants in his mind but there’s no way Ozu won’t see the texts, won’t know who they’re from.

Shuji watches as Ozu's eyes narrow dangerously down at the screen. His jaw tightens, fist clenching.

He looks up to see Shuji standing there, frozen. “This yours?” he asks.

Shuji nods slowly. It’s almost as if time slows down for them. His heart pulses in his ears.

“You think you’re cute, huh?” Ozu tosses the phone, making Shuji scramble to catch it. At least it’s not broken.

Ozu's lip curls almost like he’s baring his teeth. “Answer me!” he spits.

Everything happens all at once, much too quickly for Shuji to react.

Ozu grabs his collar and shoves him hard against the wall. "What makes you so special?" he shouts. He shakes Shuji, banging the back of his head with a sickening thud. "What makes you think you can just waltz into other people's lives and fuck everything up? This is all _your_ fault!"

Shuji grabs Ozu's wrists and tries to pry them away, but he's too weak. His head hurts, he's not strong enough, he can't _do_ anything.

"You don't know anything!" Ozu spits. "Why do you get to..."

Ozu reels back his fist and hits Shuji square in the face. Shuji hits the ground, glasses flying off and sliding down the hall. "You're not special! You weren't there! You don't know anything!"

Shuji tastes blood. Ozu grabs a fistful of hair and pulls hard. He reels back for another punch when suddenly, there's someone on top of him, tackling him to the ground.

* * *

Roku's on his way to the roof when he hears it – a very familiar voice screaming for all he's worth.

Roku drops his bag and charges after the voice. Turning the corner, he sees a rather large gathering of students, staring at something in apparent shock.

"You're not special!" Kousei shouts. Roku doesn't need to see who it is, he already knows. "You weren't there! You don't know anything!"

Roku doesn't bother waiting to find out why Kousei is screaming. He darts past a gaggle of students, takes a millisecond to form a fist, and tackles Kousei to the ground.

Kousei's too shocked to move. Roku punches him twice, once in the jaw, once in the cheek. "Don't touch him!" he screams, rage boiling over, deafening him to the shouts of their classmates.

Kousei gets over his initial shock and grabs Roku's wrist, twisting until Roku hears something crack. Kousei knees him in the stomach, making him cough, and knocks him onto his back.

Roku has barely a moment to lie there, wheezing, when Kousei's on him again, hitting him and screaming at him. "Why him?" _Hit_. "Why did it have to be him!" _Hit_.

Roku tastes blood on his lips, gushing from his nose. He writhes on the floor, trying to get out, get some kind of leverage. Kousei hits him a third time.

"Get off of him!"

It's Shuji of all people who jumps on Kousei's back and forces him off. Roku sits up, coughing and sputtering, blood dripping all over his shirt and onto the floor. What the _fuck_ is Shuji thinking?

Kousei thrashes around, struggling to throw Shuji off his back. Even though he's bloody and his glasses are missing, Shuji holds strong. Kousei staggers back and rams him into the wall but he won't let go.

"Get off of me, shit head!" Kousei gets a grip on Shuji's collar and throws him over his shoulder and to the floor.

"Shuji!" Roku shouts. Panic rises in his chest, white hot fear pulsing through his veins. He races over to Shuji's still form and kneels beside him.

"Are you all right?" he says frantically.

Shuji's bruised and panting but he manages to make to his knees. "I'm fine," he mutters.

Roku takes Shuji's face in his palms. He's not fine. His face is swollen and his lip is busted and he already has a bruise forming under his eye. Roku feels tears sting the corner of his eyes. "You idiot," he whispers. All he wants to do is hold this idiot, hug him and kiss him and tell him how much he loves him.

"What the hell's going on here?"

Roku clamps a protective arm around Shuji's waist as their teacher marches through the throng of students. He can only imagine what they look like – three boys, bloody and bruised and panting, he and Shuji holding onto each other for dear life. They must be quite a sight.

"Get back to class!" their teacher shouts, immediately scattering the remaining onlookers. "And you three! Come with me!"

* * *

"I have never in all my years of teaching seen anything as disgraceful as this!"

Shuji sits on a bed in the infirmary, having his eye looked at while their teacher gives them all the scolding of a lifetime. Shuji has a feeling, however, that the worst will come when his mother arrives.

"Students fighting in the hallways, what on earth could have gotten into you?"

Roku sits in a bed across from him, tissue pressed against his nose, sending him little smiles every once in a while. They shouldn't make Shuji feel so warm inside, not when they're all going to be suspended and certainly not when his mother is definitely going to ground him for the next thirty years, but they do.

"Especially you, Ichinose! I knew this school had been too lenient with you."

He wants Roku over here, close enough to lean against, but their teacher probably wouldn't go for that. Neither would Ozu, currently sat in a bed farther away. Though, Shuji's not even sure he would notice – Ozu hasn't looked at him since they got here.

"And you, Yashiro!"

Shuji startles at his name. "Y-yes, ma'am?"

Their teacher clicks her tongue. "I'm surprised at you," she says. "You've never been anything but a model student. Now suddenly you're getting into fights in the hallways, jumping onto a fellow classmate, biting them!"

Roku tries to hide a snort behind his hand. Shuji guesses he hadn't seen that part.

Their teacher leaves them to the nurse once the bell rings, but their reprieve is short lived as Shuji's mother walks into the room just a few minutes later and chews him out like she never has before. Then she turns to Roku and does the same thing and Shuji almost finds it funny. She's really a force to be reckoned with when she wants to be.

Ozu gets permission to leave about halfway through his mother's ranting. Hands shoved in his pocket, eyes fixed to the ground, he looks defeated. It doesn't make Shuji feel better.

Eventually his mother stops yelling and just sighs. "I guess I'll have to take you home, too, hmm?" she asks Roku.

Roku gives her his signature lazy smile. "I can go on my own, no need to worry," he says.

Shuji shakes his head. Roku's not the only one who can be stubborn when it matters.

"It wasn't a question," his mother says. "It's already bad enough that you live by yourself. What would your poor mother say if she saw you like this, hmm? And I expect you to tell her. You may be nineteen but you're far from being an adult."

Roku, wisely, chooses not to fight her. "Yes, ma'am," he says.

Shuji's mom nods tersely and walks out of the room without waiting for them.

They sit there for moment, just the two of them looking at each other. Shuji doesn’t even know if words are necessary much less what he actually wants to say. ‘Thank you.’ ‘You saved me.’ ‘I love you.’ They just don’t seem like enough.

Eventually, Roku takes the handful of steps he needs to close the distance between them. "Come on," he says, holding his hand out.

Shuji takes it and Roku instantly laces their fingers together. In spite of the pain they'll both definitely be feeling tomorrow, for now, this is more than enough.

* * *

Roku doesn't seem too eager to let go of Shuji's hand even when they're in the car with his mother. That's fine, though. Shuji doesn't really want to let go of his either.

His mother glances back in the rearview mirror every once in a while. If she notices, she doesn't say anything. When they pull up to Roku's apartment complex, he actually flashes a smile. "Thanks, Mrs. Yashiro," he says, voice a little nasally. At least his nose isn't actually broken.

"There is nothing to be thankful for, young man," Shuji's mom says. "I expect you to march up to your room and think about the trouble you've caused."

Roku looks guilty but just a little. He smiles sheepishly. "Yes, ma'am," he says. Then he actually has the audacity to kiss Shuji's cheek. "Bye, Shuji."

Roku practically dashes inside before Shuji can say anything. _This guy_...

His mother clicks her tongue. "So," she says slowly. "When were you going to tell me about this little development?"

"Uh um," Shuji sputters, brain refusing to form coherent thoughts for several seconds. "It happened... kinda recently," he finally says.

"When?"

"School trip."

His mother heaves a long suffering sigh. "Between that and this, you two sure do get into trouble."

Shuji blushes and goes back to looking out the window. "Sorry," he says.

His mother is quiet for a second as she starts the car but Shuji's pretty sure he hears her mutter "teenagers" under her breath.

* * *

Roku bounds through his apartment door. His face hurts and there's a skip in his step and nothing makes any sense anymore. _'Maybe that was a little bold,'_ he thinks. He wishes he could have stuck around to see Shuji's face. _'Bet it got all red.'_ It'd be a shame if he couldn't see that; Shuji's really cute when he's flustered.

He's still not entirely sure where they stand – officially anyway. They never really got the chance to talk about it. But Roku knows how he feels now. When they do talk, whatever they decide to be – friends, boyfriends, lovers – as long as they can be together, it doesn't really matter.

He takes a shower, first and foremost. His school uniform is pretty wrecked now, unless he can beg his mom to help him wash out all the blood. He sighs. She's going to have a heart attack when he tells her about this.

For now, he lets his shirt soak in the sink and hopes it helps.

There's no mirror in the bathroom. He'd taken it down when he first moved in. It's still here, in the linen closet, face down where he can't see it.

The school nurse told him to check his injuries when he got home. She said he'd need to rewrap them. He can't really do that if he can’t see them.

Roku walks over to the closet and opens the door. There's the mirror, right where he'd left it.

He hesitates. Is this okay? His heartbeat quickens in his chest. _'You have to,'_ he tells himself. That doesn't make it any easier.

He doesn't look at the mirror until it's firmly in place above his bathroom sink. He doesn't want to look; he's been doing so well. Who's going to be looking back? He doesn't want to know.

But it isn't Kei's face he sees. It hardly looks like a face at all.

His left cheek is already swollen, purple bruise just starting to take shape along the bone. His nose has stopped bleeding but there's still some caked along the sides of it. He tries and fails to suppress a wince. Gross.

He managed to avoid a black eye unlike Shuji but there's a pretty nasty cut along his top lip that looks like it might leave a scar. He touches it with his index finger. It still stings.

This isn't Kei's face anymore. It's his.

Despite the pain, Roku manages to crack half a smile. Things are different now, aren't they?

Roku peels off the rest of his clothes and gets into the shower. He thinks he'll keep the mirror up for a while.

* * *

A few days pass. Shuji's been forbidden from leaving his house over the course of his suspension which leaves Roku without much to do other than text him. They talk a lot though not about much but that's fine. Roku misses him, though.

The pain had been a lot worse the morning after. There'd been a fresh bruise on his abdomen and his lip had swollen to twice its normal size. He'd sent Shuji a picture. Shuji'd sent him one back, of course, showing off his black eye and new glasses. 'They're not really my style,' he'd said in a text.

'I like them,' Roku'd sent back and he meant it, too. Dark, thick-rimmed glasses suit Shuji pretty well. Better than his circular spares, at least.

Nice as their continued correspondence has been, it still leaves Roku bored and alone in his apartment with no desire to really leave other than to get food. He goes for walks anyway, per his therapist's recommendation, but he still finds it incredibly lacking.

 _'I should make some more friends,'_ he thinks one day while out on his walk. The cherry trees are in full bloom, birds singing, the whole shebang. It only makes him wish Shuji were here more. _'Maybe some of the guys from the photography club. They're decent.'_

Roku's apparently so distracted that he doesn't even really see Kousei until he's less than a meter away.

He's just sitting on the bench outside of Roku's apartment building, staring at the ground, expression a mix of a thousand conflicting emotions that Roku can't read in the slightest. He's pretty different from Shuji, in that way. Shuji's an open book but Kousei? Not so much.

"Isn't this kind of like an ambush?" he asks.

"Roku," Kousei says, as if he's just now noticed him. "You look like shit."

Roku shrugs. "You should see the other guy," he says. It's weird, this beating around the bush. Roku always figured avoidance was his thing. He's been avoiding this for a long time, hasn't he? "What are you doing here?"

"Figured we should talk," Kousei says. He sounds calm, almost resigned. "Know we've never been the talkative type but this is important, don't you think?"

Roku nods slowly. "Guess so."

Kousei cracks a joyless smile. "Guess this is the part where I say I'm breaking up with you." He snorts. "Breaking up, as if we were anything to begin with."

Roku walks over and takes a seat on the bench next to Kousei. He hasn't really been fair lately, has he.

He and Kousei have never had the healthiest relationship. That's part of why Roku sought him out in the first place. He was dangerous and rough and willing to punish Roku whether he knew it or not. That's what Roku had wanted at the time.

But, still, he'd been there, too. On hard nights when Roku couldn't sleep, Kousei was always a phone call away. Maybe he'd just come over and fuck Roku until he couldn't think anymore, but it was enough, at the time.

"At the time." That's all in the past now, isn't it? Regardless of what they'd wanted back then, it's not what they need right now. They've changed, drifted, dealt with things in different ways. They've never been good together, but now, they're pretty bad for each other.

"We were never anything to begin with, were we," Kousei says after what feels like a long time. He takes a cigarette out of his pocket and sticks it between his teeth.

Roku shakes his head. "We were something. Just not the right thing."

Kousei nods, slowly, mournfully. "I'm transferring schools," he says.

"Cause of our fight?"

"Nah." Kousei lights the cigarette and takes a drag. He offers it to Roku.

He hasn't smoked in a while, he realizes. Not since his birthday.

He refuses the cigarette. "I quit," Roku says.

Kousei arches a brow. "That cause of Yashiro?"

Roku has to look away. "Nah."

A moment passes, then another. Ashes gather and drop off as the cigarette shrinks. They don't say anything for a while.

Finally, when the cigarette has been stamped out and the smoke has all but cleared, Roku speaks again. "You never answered my question."

Kousei shoves his hands in his pockets. "I'm not transferring cause of you, if that's what you're thinking," he says. "You're not that important to me."

He doesn't sound like he means it as an insult so Roku doesn't take it that way. Even if it were, Roku doesn't think he'd mind. Kousei isn't that important to him anymore either, he realizes.

"Well," Roku starts. "Good luck I guess."

"Yeah," Kousei nods. "You, too."

Kousei leaves first, leaving Roku on a bench under the slowly setting sun. It doesn't feel like he's been broken up with. That came a long time ago, after all, didn't it?

It doesn't feel much like an end at all. It's much more like a beginning.

Roku takes out his phone and dials the number he's long since memorized.

"Hello?" Shuji's voice comes over the line.

Roku smiles despite himself. "Hey."

"Roku!" Shuji sounds much more excited than he ought to, really. "What's up?"

"Can I come over?" he asks, unable to keep the slight nervousness from his voice. "I want to tell you something."

* * *

Shuji's mom and sister aren't actually home right now, which he makes sure to say to Roku over the phone. Despite this, said boy still decides to climb up the side of the house and through his window.

"Why?" is all Shuji can say.

Roku shrugs, taking his shoes off. His hair sways in the evening breeze and Shuji finds he can't be that mad. "I thought it would be romantic," he says.

Shuji heaves a sigh. "You're an idiot."

"Maybe." Roku climbs down from the window and saunters over, wrapping his arms around Shuji's neck and kissing him maybe a little harder than he should given his still swollen lip. "But you love me anyway," he says as he pulls away.

"Yeah." Shuji wraps his arms around Roku's waist, bringing him closer. They probably shouldn't be doing this, not while Shuji's still grounded, but damn it if he hasn't missed the guy over the past week. "I do."

Roku's soft, tender smile is enough to erase any doubts Shuji might have had. He leans in to steal another kiss, gentler this time. "I love you, too, you know."

Shuji knows, probably has for a while.


	7. Epilogue

Roku wipes the mirror down with a towel before running a comb through his hair. He shakes it out a moment later, not entirely sure why he bothers.

He traces the scar on his upper lip with his tongue. He's come to think of it fondly like a battle scar.

Shuji's still on the bed, clad only in his underwear and staring far too closely at various university brochures.

Roku throws himself onto the mattress, scattering the papers. Shuji sighs and hits him with a pillow. "Rude," Roku mumbles.

"You started it," Shuji says with a shrug.

Roku takes the pillow and tucks it under his chin. They have to think about this stuff now, don't they? Graduation is less than a month away, after all. "Have you decided?" he asks.

Shuji hums thoughtfully. "Sort of. I was thinking about Tokyo University. Their Fine Arts program includes photography so I wanted to check it out at least. If I can get in."

"You'll get in," Roku says. He picks up the brochure. Tokyo University, huh? "Maybe I'll go there, too."

Roku hasn't been sure about his future pretty much ever. Go with the flow, see where it takes him – that’s the kind of guy he’s always been.  He's glad it's led him here.

Shuji smiles that smile that outshines the sun. "You'll have to work hard to get in."

"Don't worry." Roku gets to his knees and crawls over to steal a kiss. It doesn't really matter where he ends up. So long as they can be together, the future's full of possibilities. "I know a guy."

 

THE END


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